A Red Sun Rises
by QueenofFlarmphgal
Summary: Boromir is dead. Merry and Pippin have been taken. But the orcs have taken another prize, on whom might not survive the perilous road to Isengard. Kind of AU, movie and book mixed. Please R and R!
1. Chapter 1

**Ah, a fresh start….**

**Hello, and welcome to the story! **

**Here are the boring details:**

**Title: **A Red Sun Rises

**Summary: **Boromir is dead. Merry and Pippin have been taken. But the orcs have taken another prize, one whom might not survive the perilous road to Isengard. Kind of AU, movie and book mixed. Please R and R!

**Rating: **PG-13, for a fun-filled and angsty scene later on, and also some gory images.

**Disclaimer: **I own completely NOTHING in this story. Because no matter how much I want them, all of these characters and places belong to good Professor Tolkien, may he rest in peace.

**Author's Note: I am completely aware of another story on this site with what seems like the same plot (Doomed To Live, by fliewatuet) and it is a FANTASTIC story, but I can assure everyone that I copied none of her ideas and this story will have a very different plot. Please inform me if you feel that I am stealing any of her ideas, and I will change them immediately. Thanks!**

**Well, enough blabbering. On with the story! **

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Boromir was gone. The boat passed over the waterfall and disappeared.

Aragorn sighed and turned away to face the eastern shore of the Anduin. One of their elven-boats was barely visible, hidden among the foliage. As he strained his eyes, he thought he could see small grey shadows pass through the trees before disappearing.

"Aragorn," He looked back. Legolas and Gimli stood faithfully side by side, awaiting orders. "Where will we go?" Gimli had scarcely got his question out when Aragorn replied abruptly.

"I do not know."

Legolas and Gimli exchanged a glance. Something was different. Aragorn looked lost, and he kept rubbing his left shoulder, where both of them knew he has a nasty cut. Legolas stepped closer.

"Are you alright?" He asked, trying to sound casual. Aragorn laughed bitterly.

"I am perfectly fine, except for the part where I failed the whole Fellowship."

Legolas was stunned.

"What do you mean?"

"I failed! I could not protect Merry or Pippin, and I did not act quickly enough to save Boromir. And now Frodo and Sam have left. I do not know where to go." Aragorn passed a hand over his face and again turned to the waterfall.

"Aragorn, you failed no one. None could have foreseen the orcs coming to the western shore. And you did save Boromir. You granted him a noble death, and allowed him final words." Gimli said softly. Aragorn said nothing for several seconds, until, with a great effort, he spoke again.

"I know I must decide where to go from here, but I need space to think. I will take a short walk to clear my thoughts." Both Legolas and Gimli nodded their approval, and as Aragorn stepped past them, Legolas grasped his shoulder.

"Aragorn, know that whatever path you choose, we will follow you."

"To the end." Gimli added gruffly. Aragorn gave them a troubled smile.

"I know."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

The vast and beautiful woodlands of Amon Hen did nothing to soothe Aragorn's nerves. He walked slowly as a thousands thoughts echoed around his head. Where to go? Should he search for Frodo and Sam and beg them to reconsider their choice? Or to hope against hope and try to save Merry and Pippin from the orcs?

Aragorn came to a stop at the base of a low hill. He sat on a cracked stone and attempted to quiet his thoughts. But one kept coming back.

_What would Gandalf do?_

But this was simply another question he couldn't answer. Gandalf was gone, he repeated to himself. He didn't want to accept it. Even though it had been more than a month since Moria, Aragorn was still in shock that a world without Gandalf's help could even exist.

Even though he is gone, his counsel remains, Aragorn's inner voice reminded him. He paused and searched through his memories, hoping to find something that would help him. But instead he came upon a memory of Elrond speaking at the end of the great council.

_"I think that this task is appointed to you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will." _

Suddenly it was clear to him. Frodo's path ran alone, and he could no longer help him. But Merry and Pippin were in grave danger, if they were even alive, and it was now his duty to save them, or at least try.

His mind made up, Aragorn took a deep breath and stood, ready to go back to Legolas and Gimli. But he was musing for so long that he had let his senses off their guard. There was an increasing sound of beings moving in the wood, and the only animals Aragorn had seen were birds. Which meant they had to be orcs. Aragorn drew his sword and waited for the answer to his question. It came, but in a different form than he expected.

In the form of an arrow.

It struck his right shoulder, piercing the bone and sending white-hot agony though his sword arm. He cried out and fell to his knees, dropping his sword. Suddenly about forty orcs came running through the trees. Aragorn struggled to his feet and took his sword in his left hand. He wasn't as strong in that hand, but he could still fight, which was more than quite a few men could do.

As the first few descended upon him, he was able to kill them, not very easily, but as they began to fight in twos and threes, he knew he was beaten. Every strike was parried by many different blades. All of a sudden, he felt a scimitar dig into the cut on his arm, while a club came down heavily on head.

Aragorn came crashing to the ground, and as he sank into darkness, his mind translated one last thought.

_Again I have failed. _

**TBC…**

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**Well, there's the first chapter! Tell me what you think, PLEASE! **

**Next chapter will be up in about a week, depending on my laziness levels. **

**PLEASE REVIEW! Oh, and speaking of reviews, I again read carefully through the rules, and there is NO RULE that says responses are banned. But I know that several authors have had their works taken off the site for posting responses, so I will be replying via email. So please include your email addresses or sign in when reviewing if you want a response.**

**Thanks! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	2. Among the orcs

**Alright, here we are! **

…**I didn't take _that _long, did I?**

**I'm sorry! I've pictured this a million times but it's just so hard to write down.**

**Oh well.**

**Onward!**

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Pippin slowly awoke. His first thought was expected: _Where am I? _He cautiously opened one eye, then the other. What he saw frightened him more than anything he had ever seen.

He was in the middle of a dark camp teeming with orcs. They were simply everywhere, eating, sharpening weapons, arguing, and busily packing. His wrists and ankles were bound in front of him, and he thought he could feel a large bump on his head. But as far as the young hobbit could tell, he was in one piece.

_Where is Merry?_ His mind whispered to him. Pippin was surprised to find that he did not know. He craned his head over his shoulder to look around. All he saw was more orcs, but- wait! Was that him? His heart sank. It was indeed Merry, bound in a similar fashion and lying still. How had they gotten themselves into this mess?

Pippin banished his thoughts and instead turned to his bonds. They were cruelly tight, and he could hardly move. He tried turning over, but some of the nearby orcs saw.

"Awake at last, aren't you, little maggot?" one of them stepped forward and prodded Pippin's stiff legs. Pippin made no outward signs, but he could not resist wriggling forward, away from the horrid touch.

The orcs laughed and several crowded closer, eager to make Pippin squirm away.

"What are you doing, you slugs? You know our orders! Get back to work! Prepare to leave!" A huge Uruk barged through the crowd, shoving the others out of the way. "Where is that good-for-nothing Grishnakh? Him and his lads should have been here by now! Filthy half-breed Northerners…" He trailed off into a long string of curses.

"Then what did we bring 'em for if not for fun?" One of the braver (or stupider) orcs stepped forward. "I came for a bit of sport! Who says we can't do anything?" Several orcs also advanced and joined him.

"Yeah! These little ones will be fun!" A small, short orc drew his sword and stood over Pippin. Pippin had hardly acknowledged him when he was scooped up and thrown out of the way. From his new position he saw another sword fly through the air, swiftly beheading the first orc.

"I, Ugluk, say we can't do anything! If you idiots had even paid a bit of attention you would know that we are NOT to hurt the Halflings! Saruman wants them alive and UN-spoiled, is why, you scum. And-"

He was quickly cut off by the arrival of another troop of orcs. This one was much smaller than the group of orcs there already, and it was composed of shorter, broader orcs. The group guarding him quickly dispersed and went elsewhere, probably looking for the last of the food or something equally entertaining.

Pippin found that for a moment he was left alone with the headless corpse. His eyes darted side to side, and upon seeing no guards, he inched closer to it. The dead hand still held his sharp blade, and it was steady. Pippin drew it over the bonds on his hands and pulled, hardly daring to breathe. There! It was cut! Pippin quickly looped the rope back around his wrists much looser, then scooted away from the corpse and lay still, watching and listening.

There appeared to be a fight brawling out between the leader of the new pack, probably Grishnakh, and Ugluk. He kept shouting something that sounded like "The HALFLINGS were wanted alive, you imbecile! Only the HALFLINGS!" Grishnakh was angrily shouting something intelligible and gesturing to something on the ground. Had Pippin been closer, he would have heard the importance of their argument.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**"**What are you blabbering about? My master wants all of 'em!" Grishnakh said sharply. Ugluk bristled and turned, but instead shouted to the remainder of the orcs.

"Get yer selves moving! Nothing to see here! Off with you!" The orcs grumbled amongst themselves, but walked away and joined their fellow travelers. "Now," Ugluk said. "What's this about?" He gestured to the stiff, bound figure next to Gishnakh's feet.

"_My _master, Sauron the Great, wants all of the scum that we found alive."

"Well, _my _master, Saruman the Wise, wanted only the Halflings- alive and unspoiled! And I am in charge of this crew!" Ugluk moved to draw his sword, but Grishnakh seized his arm and pointed him to where the hobbits lay.

"_Them? _What's the use of them? If Saruman wants information, I doubt he'll get it from them. What would they know about anything? If anyone knows anything, it would be a Man, their leader." He pointed to his captive. Ugluk laughed.

"That scum, their leader? Bah. He's naught but a ragged beggar. The one we killed, that one was the leader." He said proudly.

Grishnakh leered at him. "Exactly. An excellent move on your part. He would have surely known the most. But since you stupidly shot him, this one will have to do." Ugluk growled and again reached for his sword.

"I am the leader of this group, and I will make the decisions of who lives or not! And I only came for Halflings. The filthy tark will only get in the way." Grishnakh smiled slyly.

"Well then, great Ugluk, what exactly is your plan then? What happens if they attempt to escape, which will surely happen?"

"They won't escape." Ugluk growled. Grishnakh's smile grew.

"Yes, yes, but how will you, ah, discipline them? Your master wants them alive and _un_spoiled, meaning unharmed. What will your plan be then?" He paused.

"The tark…he is their friend. He traveled with them. Bring him, if not for your master, then for you. For, what's the word, a bargaining chip."

Ugluk seemed to consider.

"Fine," he finally growled. "But if he's no relation to them, he's gone. And if he's one bit of trouble, we're killing him on the spot." Ugluk laughed grimly. "And if some of the boys want a bit of fun, perhaps he can aid them." Grishnakh laughed with him.

"Alright then. We'll throw them together and go from there."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Pippin watched curiously as the two orcs argued. Finally they turned, and Ugluk walked away. But Grishnakh, the other one, stooped and grabbed hold of something. He dragged it behind him and walked toward Pippin, a horrible grin on his face.

"We've got a bit of a surprise for you, yes. Perhaps you've seen it before." With another grin, he dropped his burden and stalked off. Pippin crept closer to it, a terrible feeling in his heart. Once he got close enough to see who it was, his jaw dropped and he trembled head to foot.

"Strider."

He half whispered the word, wishing he was wrong and it wasn't him. Because in truth, Strider looked terrible. His left arm had a savage cut in it that was bleeding steadily. But even worse was a broken shaft of an arrow protruding from his right shoulder. And to top it all off, he had several huge bruises across his face.

Suddenly he felt another weight being dropped beside him. He turned, his eyes moist.

"Pippin? Oh, Pippin, it is you." Merry gasped and his eyes traveled across Pippin's face, searching. "You're not hurt, are you?" Pippin shook his head numbly. "What's wrong?" Pippin gestured to Strider with his bound hands. Merry gasped sharply.

"Is he…alive?" he whispered.

"I don't know." Pippin murmured. He carefully rolled Strider onto his back and pressed his head to his chest. There it was, faint but steady. A pulse.

"Strider, wake up! Come on, please wake up!" Merry called softly.

Aragorn slowly awoke. His first sensation was an excruciating pain in his right arm. He moaned.

"That's it, Strider, come on! You can do it!"

Aragorn's foggy head gradually recognized the voice of Merry. _But why is he here? Where is here? _He tried opening his eyes. It took longer than he liked, but he eventually pried them open. The small forms of Merry and Pippin came into view.

He smiled softly.

Merry and Pippin sighed in relief.

"Oh Strider, we thought you were dead." Pippin said, still sounding terrified. Aragorn blinked in confusion. Dead? He didn't feel great, but dead?

"Where are we?" he asked no one in particular. Merry answered.

"In an orc camp. We were captured, and I guess you were too." Aragorn frowned and tried to sit up. Instantly both of his arms screamed at him, and he noticed for the first time that his hands were behind his back, and his legs were bound securely together. Captured? Well, that would explain his pounding headache. Suddenly it all came back. Frodo, Boromir, Legolas, the orcs…

"Are you two alright?" he managed to ask. They both nodded.

"Are you?" Pippin questioned him. Aragorn almost laughed, but gave Pippin a smile.

"I've been better, I suppose." Pippin smiled back uneasily.

"Strider, you look…well, terrible." Merry said quickly. Aragorn sighed.

"I'll bet. But there is nothing we can do about it now. Try to rest. I have a feeling we are leaving soon."

Merry and Pippin nodded and turned over. Aragorn tried to get in a more comfortable position, failed, and merely lay where he was. As he stared into the night sky, he prayed to the Valar that at least the hobbits would come out of this alive.

Meanwhile, Grishnakh watched their interaction and grinned.

**TBC…**

**Please review! I give myself a week to update. See you then! Oh, and my apologies to Leif of Rohan and mina. So sorry, but I was unable to respond to your reviews. Once again, please include your email address!**

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	3. Missing

**Well, here we are again! **

**Late, as usual.**

**SORRY! But I have a good excuse this time! I was on vacation in NY! WOOOOOOOOOOO! It was so totally fantastic. And I got to see Avenue Q, the BEST and FUNNIEST musical ever. But I DIDN'T HAVE A COMPUTER! So I couldn't update, and………**

**Oh yes! And then SCHOOL STARTED ON MONDAY! But our HS is actually pretty cool.**

**Yeah.**

**But I WILL UPDATE QUICKER THIS TIME! Promise!**

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Legolas was growing impatient.

Aragorn had left almost three hours ago, and he had still not returned. Normally Legolas would not think this a problem, but Boromir's death had awakened his old fear that his friend would die before his time. Legolas was full-on ready to begin hunting for Aragorn. But Gimli thought otherwise.

He knew that Legolas had been Aragorn's friend for a very long time, and knew him best. But he couldn't shake off the feeling that Aragorn had been hiding some inner turmoil and needed time to sort it out. And he was a bit amused by Legolas's brilliant show of pacing along the riverbank and murmuring angrily to himself.

Suddenly Legolas stopped and looked up. His eyes traveled along the trees warily.

"Gimli!" he called. Gimli stood up and walked to where Legolas stood, eyeing the forest.

"What?" He asked gruffly. "Is a tree calling you? Or-"

"Down!" Legolas interrupted. He grabbed Gimli and shoved him to the ground, throwing himself down beside him.

"What are you doing you insane-" Suddenly a black-feathered arrow whizzed out of the foliage. It passed harmlessly over their heads and into the water.

"Orcs…. orcs are coming!" shouted Legolas, jumping up and fitting an arrow to his bow. Gimli cursed and pulled out his axe. And they came.

For the first time in a while, they were lucky. Instead of the some 40 that had attacked Aragorn, this was only a small troupe, about 12 strong. Legolas and Gimli easily defeated them and remained unscathed.

"We have to go." Said Legolas calmly as he wiped his knives clean on the grass. "Aragorn is out there alone and does not know that there are more of them here." Gimli wisely stayed quiet and merely nodded. As much as he hated to admit it, Legolas was right, and if Aragorn was in danger they needed to find him.

Together they set out, with their packs, and Aragorn's in case he wanted to move right away. They quickly picked up found Aragorn's trail and followed it up a steep hill, past some rocks, and finally into a clearing. What they found, however, was not comforting.

Nine orcs lay dead, their black blood staining the forest leaves. There was no sign of any living being. The woods were eerily silent. At last Gimli spoke up.

"Clearly Aragorn has been here. But if he had encountered orcs, why did he not return to camp?"

Legolas sighed. "I do not know." He looked around and strained his eyes for any glimpse of his friend, but the woods were empty. After a long thought he got an idea.

"Maybe…maybe these orcs are part of the troupe that captured the hobbits. Perhaps Aragorn tracked the rest of them to their camp in hopes of finding them." Legolas stated lamely. Even though his mind desperately wished that that was what had happened, his heart disagreed. But what his heart told him he didn't want to hear.

Gimi could see it. "Why would he just leave us? He knows that we were waiting for his return. He wouldn't abandon us without any way of contact. At _very_ least he would have left us a token." Legolas knew Gimli was right.

"Fine. Let us search for one then." Gimli sighed and walked over to one of the orcs and lifted it up, checking the stab wound. Legolas moved over to the trees, checking the bark for runes or signs. A loud gasp from Gimli made him run back.

"What is it? Are there orcs coming?" Legolas looked around wildly. Gimli quickly interrupted.

"No, no, not like that. But lad…." He guestured to the ground before them.

There was a large, flattened out space, and spilled across the dead leaves was blood. Not orc blood, black and foul. This was red, and dull now.

Human blood.

Legolas sank to his knees and pressed a hand to his face. Aragorn was hurt. And badly, judging by the amount of blood that decorated the ground. He opened his eyes and desperately searched the ground for tracks. Any sign that Aragorn was able to walk or get away, anything at all….but there was nothing.

"Did-did you find anything else?" Legolas somehow managed to say, half dreading the answer. Gimli nodded somenly. From a pile at his feet, he picked up the other clue he had found.

A ripped and bloodstained cloak with a leaf-shaped brooch.

Legolas choked back a sob and stood up, suddenly angered. He let out a cry of rage and kicked the nearest orc so hard it flew several feet away. All at once he wished he hadn't. Because, previously hidden by the orc carcass, was Aragorn's sword.

Gimli bowed his head, an expression of utmost sorrow on his face. Legolas just stared at the sword. Aragorn himself had forged it, and Legolas knew from experience that he never went anywhere without it.

"So it is as I thought," he murmured, half to himself. "He has been taken."

They stood there together, elf and dwarf, both silently grieving together. Until finallyLegolas broke the silence.

"We have to go. See if you can find their trail." Legolas picked up the sword and its sheath, which had been lying beneath it. He wiped it clean and returned it to its place. Then he carefully folded the cloak and put it in Aragorn's pack. His work done, Legolas began picking his way through the bodies, searching for a trail.

Gimli followed quietly. "Legolas…" he began, but he was cut off.

"I know! I know what you're going to say, so just don't!" Gimli stepped backward in shock. There were bright tears spilling down Legolas's face, and in his eyes was utmost sorrow. "I know that he's probably dead. I just, I just…" He turned away, and when Gimli looked again, Legolas had regained himself.

"I am sorry, my friend. It is not your fault. Please forgive me." Gimli grinned.

"No apologies needed! Now, let's get going, if you don't need to fix your hair or anything." Legolas scowled merrily, and finding the trail, took off through the trees. Gimli followed, his short legs echoing through the trees.

**TBC…**

**Well, there you go! **

**And I know that this chapter is rather Aragorn-less, but he will be in the next one. Oh yes, the next chapter will be FUN! MWA HA HA!**

**Please review! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	4. A Promise Made

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Pippin woke with an unpleasant jolt.

He opened his eyes, and found himself yet again in an uncomfortable situation. Though they had moved to a new spot, there were still about sixty orcs milling around, making a quick camp and fighting over food. Pippin rolled onto his stomach and looked around for his companions.

Merry was only a few yards away, lying between two huge orc guards. Pippin shuddered and turned away, searching for Aragorn. Pippin had hardly caught a glimpse of him all day, and he wanted to be sure that nothing had happened. He knew that they were wanted alive for some evil purpose, but after this morning, he wasn't sure that Strider would fare well on this trip.

_/Flashback/_

_They had only been resting a few minutes when Ugluk had approached them. The three of them were awake and Merry and Pippin looked at the orc with wide, frightened eyes. But Aragorn glared back at him without a trace of fear. _

_"Now what do you want of us?" Strider had asked loudly. Pippin gaped at him, surprised. He didn't think, of all things, that Strider would be taunting the orcs!_

_Neither did Ugluk. He growled and replied by giving Aragorn a heavy kick to the stomach_. _Aragorn instantly doubled over, gasping for breath. Ugluk turned to the hobbits._

_"Now," he sneered. "If no one else has any stupid questions, we're leaving. But be helpful now. No yelling, no trying to escape. We have ways of making you pay." At this he eyed Aragorn. "Ufthak! Lagdur! Magdush! Give it to them and get them ready to leave!" _

_Without a second glance he left, instantly replaced by three burly orcs. The first one reached for Merry, who instantly recoiled. But the orc didn't care. He seized Merry's arm, cut the bonds around his legs, and stood him up. Merry fell over. The orc growled with annoyance and shoved a flask into Merry's mouth. At this Aragorn had sat up and begun struggling to get to him, but Merry had no choice but to swallow. He felt the brew travel through him, replacing the pain in his numb legs with blazing energy. Merry was stood up again and pushed to the side. Pippin was treated in the same fashion._

_Now it was Aragorn's turn. Two of the orc seized his arms from behind and yanked him upright, while the third cut the ropes around his legs. At this move, Aragorn stifled a moan and slumped slightly. The other orcs only tightened their hold on his wounded arms. Pippin saw a trace of agony flicker across his face, quickly replaced by a grim glare, which he aimed at the nearest orc. The orc recoiled slightly, but responded by shoving the flask into Aragorn's mouth. At first Aragorn struggled to get away, but the orc punched him again in the midsection, allowing the drink to pass through his throat. The orc wasn't satisfied. He grabbed Aragorn's throat and whispered something in his ear that Pippin could not catch. Aragorn's tough façade did not budge, and he was shoved back with the others, gasping for breath._

_Soon after that they were moving. Aragorn was in the front, Pippin around the middle, and Merry in the last row. But after about two hours, Pippin found it harder and harder to keep up as the liquor fueling him gave out. Suddenly he stumbled. An orc picked him up, inserted his head between Pippin's bound hands, and continued running. Pippin had shut his eyes and slipped into dark dreams. _

_/End flashback/_

Pippin had not seen Aragorn since, and he didn't know if anything had happened, and frankly, he didn't know what to expect. He scanned the remainder of the camp, a feeling of dread growing inside him. Suddenly he caught a glimpse of a small group of orcs not too far away from him. There were about six of them and they were gathered around something that Pippin couldn't see.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a rough kick in the leg. An orc threw some hard bread and a strip of dried meat, then walked away. Pippin eyed the meat with distrust and nibbled the bread. When he turned back the group of orcs had dispersed, leaving behind a still figure.

'Oh no' Pippin said softly.

"What?" A voice interrupted. Merry appeared at Pippin's shoulders, clutching his meager supper.

"Merry?" said Pippin astonished. "H-how did you get here? Didn't your guards- Merry shrugged.

"They just gave me this" he indicated his bread "and I just crawled over here. Anyway, what's wrong? You looked terrified." Merry paused and looked at Pippin expectantly.

"Ara-, Strider looks…I don't know, but I think he's hurt. Look, he's not moving. And I don't think he's been given anything either." Merry looked at Aragorn's still form and contemplated.

"Do you think we could give him some of ours?" Merry asked slowly. Pippin brightened.

"Yes! That's what we'll do. I'll give him mine and we'll share yours." Merry nodded in agreement.

Pippin glanced nervously at the menacing guards above him, and began to inch forward.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Aragorn lay still, trying to move as little as possible.

Now not only his arms ached with a passion, but his whole body seemed to recently be used for a troll's sofa.

He had been running all day, and whenever he stumbled, he simply received a kick, or cut across the back. But that did not help his running, and as soon as they had stopped, the orcs had shoved him to the ground, jarring his arrow wound, and tightly rebound his legs.

Since then, he had been trying to find the least painful way to put himself, but he had been so far unsuccessful. All of a sudden an orc walked up to him.

"Oh, look at the poor tark. Looks like he's in a bit of pain, lads!" He tweaked the arrow still protruding from Aragorn's shoulder, emitting a sharp gasp of pain, but nothing else. Aragorn glared at him with cold fury in his eyes.

"Leave me." He whispered, wishing he didn't feel so weak. The orc laughed, and several more joined him, gathering around Aragorn.

"The filth thinks he can order us around! What say we teach him a lesson, eh?" The orcs shouted their approval, and crowded in, eager to have their say. Aragorn closed his eyes.

Almost fifteen minutes later, Ugluk was patrolling the camp. The two hobbits had been fed, but where was the other? Cursing violently, he stalked across the camp to where the crowd of orcs was.

"Get of it! What do you think you're doing?" He shouted, drawing his sword and slashing occasionally at the gathering orcs. They immediately dispersed, rid of their fun, and rushed off, not willing to be caught by their fierce captain. "Yeah, you better run! And don't let me catch you at it again, unless you're ordered to!"

Ugluk glanced at the man. He was lying motionless on the ground, but the orc's keen night eyes could detect his chest rising up and down. Satisfied, he resumed his patrol, leaving the prisoner behind.

Pippin swallowed worriedly. Aragorn had not moved at all, and Pippin couldn't tell if he was breathing, since he was lying with his face pointed away.

At last he approached Aragorn's still form. The hobbit carefully put down the bread and reached out to clasp Aragorn's cold hands.

"Strider, Strider wake up! Are you alright? Strider?" Now seriously scared, Pippin attempted to roll him onto his back. As he pulled gently on the stiff arm, Strider moaned and reflexively curled himself up. Relieved, Pippin shook him gently.

"Strider, you must wake up! It's just me, it's Pippin! Wake up!" Aragorn shifted and groaned.

"Iquista…..lende nin…" he murmured, half-unconsciously. Pippin, not understanding his words, shook him harder.

"Strider! Wake up!" Finally his demands came through. Aragorn's eyes cracked open, and slowly recognized Pippin.

"Pippin…is something wrong?" he asked quickly. Pippin smiled half-heartedly.

"We were worried about you…you are badly injured and the orcs don't seem to like you." He said with a quick grin. Aragorn smiled, but to Pippin it was not comforting as it was accompanied by a trickle of blood from his mouth.

"Strider, are you alright? Here, I brought you some food" Pippin produced the bread he had brought, and suddenly realized that with his hands bound behind him, Strider could not eat it. A sudden rage built inside him.

"Here." Pippin broke off a piece and offered it to Aragorn. He looked uncertain for a moment, then he leaned forward and took it in his mouth. Pippin repeated the procedure until the bread was gone.

"Thank you Pippin. Are you sure you have enough for yourself?" Pippin nodded and leaned over him. In the firelight thought he could see more bruises splayed across the exposed skin. Aragorn shifted uneasily.

"Strider, you need help. The arrow needs to come out and your arm is probably infected."

"Well…As you said, the orcs do not enjoy my presence, but I believe they want me alive as well, so you need not worry. I shall recover, in time." Pippin gaped.

"Strider, I'm sorry, but I think you need more than time." Aragorn smiled again.

"You are probably right, but I have no choice. And there are more important things at hand…" he glanced around. His two guards were talking on the edge of the camp, far out of earshot. "I want you to promise me something, Pippin."

"Anything!"

Aragorn sighed. "Pippin, you are right that most of the orcs do not wish me here, and only by one of the captain's will am I alive. But promise me, if they try to…hurt me, to make you do something, you must not give in."

"Strider, but-

"And one other thing. These orcs…they have a purpose for taking us to Isengard. If we arrive, there is no hope for any of us. Pippin, you must promise me that if you see any way to escape or leave a trail, you must take it."

"Strider, I-I… will, but…" Here Pippin looked uncomfortable. "How do we know someone is coming after us?"

_ "…know that whatever path you choose, we will follow you."_

"I know"

**TBC….**

**Well, there you go. I'm SO SORRY that it took so long, but my muse kind of went on vacation or something, and left me just staring at the computer screen. (shakes fist at sky)**

**But now that she has returned, I hope to update this sooner and…..**

**Yeah.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	5. The Mark is Made

**What's this? An update? And it's (gasp) ALMOST ON TIME?**

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The sun shone brightly over the plains of Rohan, contrasting sharply with the black shapes moving quickly across the field.

But not all were black. Merry was jogging alongside them, trying his best to hide his exhaustion. Even though he would like a rest, he had no desire to be carried like a sack on the backside of an orc.

Suddenly his efforts were rewarded. Merry, who was toward the front of the group, found himself suddenly shoved face down onto the thick grass. He could hear a muffled cry from somewhere, and several people shouting. What was going on?

Merry struggled to get up, but several hands held him down. What's going on? His mind screamed.

Just before he thought he would go crazy from not knowing, he was pulled back to his feet. He looked around, bewildered.

The orcs. The plains. They looked normal. Was it one of his companions? He scanned the group, praying that they had not fallen….

Ah. There was Aragorn. His face was pale, and in the broad sunlight Merry could clearly see a steady dribble of blood coming from the arrow still imbedded in his shoulder. Two orcs were holding him tightly, but their attention, along with all the others' was focused elsewhere.

He followed their eyes. _There _was the cause of the distraction. Pippin was lying on the ground, a cut on the back of his legs. Ugluk was standing over him, glaring.

"…clever little stunt you pulled there, but it won't work. And it had better not happen again. We have ways of making you pay, that I promise you."

With a final glare, Ugluk shouted to the rest of them, and Merry was again prodded into a jog. What had happened? Ugluk's final words rang in his ears.

What had Pippin done _this _time?

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(Several hours later….)

Pippin dropped to the ground, panting. Today's running had been longer, and if possible, more strenuous. Come to think of it, hadn't the increased pace started just after his attempt to leave a mark…?

He was jerked out of his thoughts when Merry sat down next to him with a crash.

"Pip-pin…what hap-pened?" Merry was still breathing hard but his face was indignant. Pippin had opened his mouth, about to answer when another distraction arrived.

Aragorn staggered to where they were resting, and collapsed with a loud groan. His labored breathing did not slow down, and his chest heaved, abruptly frightening Pippin half to death.

"Strider! What's wrong? Breathe! Breathe!" Pippin found Aragorn's hand and checked his pulse. It was beating rapidly, much too fast. "Strider!"

After almost five minutes, Aragorn regained his breath and his heartbeat returned to normal. Pippin slumped back and released his breath in a long, slow motion.

"By the gods, Strider…"

Aragorn would have smiled, if not for his current state. His mind was reeling; his chest felt on fire, and it was still somewhat difficult to breathe. But Merry and Pippin were there, safe and sound….Aragorn drew a deep breath.

"Hello, young ones." He said weakly. Merry crawled closer and rested a hand on Aragorn's forehead.

"You really need help, Strider…" he said quietly. For once, Strider didn't protest.

"Yes…I admit it would not hurt. It is mainly this arrow- it keeps getting moved and going deeper in." Aragorn broke off, looking at Pippin with a sparkle in his eye. "But enough. Pippin, what is it that you did that earned a halt?"

Pippin looked guilty.

"Well, I was just running, and I was near the end, and I kept thinking what you said, about Legolas coming after us. So I kind of veered to the right, and I ended up out of the row. I managed to run a bit, before they caught me again. And I dropped my- my brooch. But Ugluk was so mad…" he looked at Aragorn. "Did I do wrong?"

Aragorn smiled softly. "Nay, Pippin. You did right. It gladdens my heart that Legolas and Gimli may find your trail. Perhaps it will help them as well." He stretched back with a soft hiss as his arm was pulled. "We should rest. Today was long, and I have a feeling that what will come will be even worse." Merry and Pippin agreed and curled up as best they could.

"There is one thing still troubling me," Merry muttered. "Ugluk said that he had ways of making you pay. I wonder what he meant?" Pippin did not answer, his tired frame already limp in sleep.

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**Well there we go! An update in _almost _a week! YAY!**

**I know this chapter was rather short, but never fear- the next installment will be long and angst-filled. MWA HA HA!**

**So, just to be on the safe side, I shall warn you that the next chapter will be quite violent and torturous and bloody, the whole shebang. YAY!**

**See ya then!**

**-QueenofFlarmphgal**


	6. A Lesson Learned

**Well, here you go! **

**And one last warning to those few who do not like torture, angst, or violence….**

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Merry was awakened with a rough kick to the abdomen. He gasped, glancing around him. Wait…something was wrong. A huge orc stood before him, grinning wickedly. Merry hardly had time to gather his thoughts when he was hoisted to his feet. Suddenly Merry realized what was different. Usually, he and Pippin were wakened by Strider, with a gentle nudge or a quiet whisper. As Merry looked back to his sleeping place, he noticed that neither Strider nor Pippin were there. A panicky feeling started in his stomach.

He glanced back to where the orc was dragging him. The whole troupe of orcs was gathered around in a circle. Yells and jeers were coming from around the center. The orc shoved Merry to the front of the crowd and held his shoulders firmly. Merry gasped as he realized what was providing the orcs' entertainment.

Strider was on the edge of the crowd, on his feet and blindfolded. He was still bound, and Merry thought he could see his heavy coat lying in a dusty heap by the fire. With the full firelight, Merry could see the true extent of Strider's wounds.

The thin shirt that he had been wearing under his jacked was soaked with blood, and slashed in many places, showing various cuts and bruises. The arrow had carved out a larger gap in his shoulder, and a steady stream of blood was dribbling out. And the cut on Aragorn's arm was clearly badly infected- it was showing bright red and purple skin. And on top of it all, Aragorn was definitely sick and struggled for breath.

Merry watched, horrified, as Strider was pushed around the edges of the circle, sometimes with a punch, other times with a sword. More than once he thought he saw Aragorn's face clench in pain, then return to the grim blockade it put up. He knew that Strider could not take much more of this, and he prayed to everything he could think of for an interference, or anything that would stop the torment.

Suddenly his prayers were answered, though not in the way he had hoped. Ugluk stormed through the circle, and raised a huge hand. Instantly the orc's cries were silenced. Aragorn was pushed roughly before Ugluk, panting. The orcs forced him to his knees and he obeyed, struggling to regain his breath.

"All right, all right, enough of your fun." Ugluk shouted. There were groans and boos. "Now we must get to business." The cries started again, almost louder. "You," he nodded to the orcs holding Aragorn. "Get him ready." The two obeyed instantly. One of them held Aragorn's wrists while the other slowly ripped the fragment of shirt from his shoulders. When he got to the arrow, the orc yanked the rest of the shirt off, jarring the arrow and edicting a soft cry of pain from Strider. The other orc pulled out a dagger, and for a moment Merry was desperately afraid. He struggled against his bonds to get to Aragorn, but the orcs held him fast.

But the armed orc only sliced through the cords around Aragorn's wrists. But this was just as bad. Aragorn released another cry of pain as blood spurted from the deep cuts left from the too-tight ropes. The orcs seized his arms and stretched them apart, until Aragorn's bare back was facing Ugluk.

"Now, little imp, we will teach you why you don't try any tricks with us." For a moment Merry thought this was aimed at him, until he saw Uglluk facing the other way. There was Pippin! He was being held fast by his guards, but was still struggling, murmuring Aragorn's name. Pippin looked up, but instantly wished he hadn't.

Ugluk stepped forward and shook out a long whip. He brought it up to Pippin's nose, brandishing it like a prize.

"You see this, rat? You may think it's just a whip. But see? It has bits of old sword here and there, designed just for this purpose. Perhaps now you will learn to listen." He turned toward Aragorn and raised the whip.

"No!" Pippin shouted, but it was too late. Ugluk brought the whip down like lightning, and a second later there was a long, bloody stripe on Aragorn's back. He arched his back reflexively, and pulled at his captors, but he made no sound, and showed no emotion. Again Ugluk raised the whip, and again it came down. Still no reaction. Again, and again nothing. And again…

**&&&&&&&&&&**

Finally, at the ninth stroke, Ugluk generated a reaction. The whip struck horizontally, and one sharp end clawed the cut on Aragorn's arm. He cried out in pain, but instantly silenced it, closing his eyes briefly. From across the camp, Merry could hear Pippin's quiet sobs and pleas, and he found his own face wet.

At last, after the twelfth stroke, Ugluk lowered the whip. Aragorn's back was shining with blood, and his whole body was slumped over. Again Ugluk walked over to Pippin and seized his tearstained face in his huge hand.

"Let that be a lesson to you." Pippin did not reply, his eyes fixed on Aragorn's trembling form. Ugluk, looking sickly satisfied, signaled the orcs to release their hold on Strider's arms. He remained standing for a moment, perfectly balanced. But his weariness and blood loss overcame him at last, and he collapsed into a motionless heap on the ground.

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**Well there you go! Angsty enough for you? Tell me in a REVIEW!**

**Oh, and I just realized that I forgot to email responses for the last chapter…To all of my wonderful reviewers, THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU MAKE MY DAY!**

**And I may not be able to do responses this time, so thank you to i like muffins, fliewatuet, lindahoyland, Leif of Rohan, Ainu Laire, and Aragorn75! YAY!**

**See you next time!**

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	7. To the pain

**Oh my! An update!**

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Strider was not moving, and Merry could not even detect his chest moving up and down. Ugluk had ordered more of his men to rebind Aragorn's wrists and ankles, but he had remained motionless. Merry's only comfort, and that was a small one, was that blood still flowed from Strider's back. He lived still.

But for how much longer, Merry didn't know. Judging from the amount of blood that stained the ground where Aragorn lay, he could tell that the ranger had lost too much blood, and could not afford to lose anymore. He was desperate now. Strider needed their help, and if the orcs got in their way-

His musings were suddenly cut off. Ugluk came marching up to him, dragging a trembling Pippin behind him.

"You two" he barked in the hobbit's faces. "Clean the filth up and get him ready to go. If he's not ready to run in twenty minutes we're leaving him behind." Done talking, he shoved Merry and Pippin toward the fire. But even the brute strength in his arms wouldn't make the hobbits run as fast as they did now, towards Aragorn.

"Aragorn…" Merry gasped as they dropped beside him. There was no response. Hurriedly, he pressed his cold hand to Strider's neck. There, it had to be there. But Merry had to stay still for almost a minute before he could detect a faint but steady pulse. He looked up at Pippin's tearstained face and nodded.

Pippin smiled shakily and sat next to him. For a moment, they simply sat there, basking in the relief that Strider was at least alive. But Merry broke out of the trance.

"We have to help him. He must be tended to, or he will be left here for the wolves." Merry got to his feet and walked slowly back to Ugluk.

"Please…could we have some…some water?" To his surprise, one of the orcs tossed him a dirty skin filled with water, not wholly clean but still good. But Merry was frustrated to discover that he could not wrench off the lid with his bound hands.

"It's no good!" he said heatedly, dropping the skin. "I can't do anything with my hands like this, and neither can-" Suddenly his eyes lit up and set on Pippin. "Pip," he said urgently. "You freed yourself, right? Just slip off the rope for a second and open this."

"No!" Pippin cried with sudden energy. The whole camp looked for a moment, then went back to what they were doing. "No, I can't." Pippin whispered. "If they see me, they'll tie me up tighter, and we won't have any chance to get away-"

"Pippin, if we don't help Strider _now _he'll die. Just-"

"Merry, he made me promise. I-I can't do it. You can ask one of them if they will release you."

Merry gave the unconscious Strider a quick glance and got up and sprinted to the orcs again. As Merry walked away, Pippin looked at Strider's face. With a pang of guilt, he removed the blindfold and tossed it away. He noticed right away that there was an expression of utmost pain spread across his noble face.

Meanwhile, Merry slowly approached the orcs. "I-I can't help him at all with my hands like this so I was wondering could you please free me and I won't try anything honest." Merry said very fast. Ugluk understood it though.

"Do I look like an idiot? One of you already tried to escape. Am I supposed to forget about it?"

"B-but he'll die if I can't help him and- "

"Untie him." The command suddenly came from the side. Grishnakh stomped toward them with a crossbow in his hand. Ugluk glared at him.

"Since when did you become leader of _my_ captives?" he asked with a snarl.

"Since when did _you _get to play a game with _my _captive?" Grishnakh shot back, guesturing at Aragorn. He bent over Merry and sliced off the ropes, but grasped the hobbit's arm.

"Listen to me," he hissed in Merry's ear. "One wrong move, one suspicion of your actions, and I'll put a bolt through _both _of your friends. We only need one of you." Merry nodded mutely. "Well, get going then." With a last glance at the loaded crossbow, Merry quickly ran back to Pippin.

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"Let's get started." He said quickly. He quickly unscrewed the water skin. But where should he start? Merry sat pondering for a moment, then decided that the cut on Aragorn's arm needed immediate attention. He looked around for a cloth and cursed.

"Wait," Pippin said. He jumped up and retrieved the remains of Aragorn's shirt. "He won't get much wear out of this. We might as well use it." Merry nodded and ripped a small piece off. He wet it, and after a moment's hesitation, dabbed the cut.

To Merry's surprise, Aragorn jerked away with a cry. He immediately began struggling wildly against his bonds and speaking very fast Elvish.

"Strider, no!" Merry cried. He grabbed Aragorn's uninjured shoulder and did his best to hold it down. "Strider, it's us again, it's Merry and Pippin, please stop! Strider!" Eventually Aragorn stopped struggling and curled up on his side, trembling. "Aragorn," Merry said softly. "It's alright. It's just me and Pippin. Open your eyes." Slowly, Aragorn's eyelids crept open.

He blinked several times and seemed to focus. Strider smiled slowly up at them and whispered, "Pippin, come here."

At his words, Pippin dropped to the ground, sobbing. He buried his face in Aragorn's uninjured shoulder. Aragorn leaned his head on Pippin's curly hair, and wished he could comfort him better.

"Pippin…stop. It's not your fault. It's mine. Do not weep, I am alright." Pippin gathered himself together somewhat and sat up. He sported a watery smile.

"Strider, you are most definitely not alright. I-I thought…I thought you- "

"Do not say that. I am alive Pippin." Merry cleared his throat. "What happened since I was out? Are you both alright?"

"Yes, yes Strider, we're fine." Said Merry impatiently. "But Ugluk gave us a little time to tend to you. Where does it hurt most?" Aragorn shifted uncomfortably. At last he answered, "The arrow."

Merry bit his lip. He had never removed an arrow from anyone before, or on that note even touched one.

"Um Strider I'm sorry but…" Pippin stammered, voicing Merry's thoughts. Aragorn grinned.

"I will guide you. It will be fairly simple." Aragorn braced himself and rolled over onto his tattered back. He released a sharp gasp and relaxed.

"The arrow-," Aragorn was broken off by a coughing fit. Merry hastily grabbed the water skin and pressed it to his lips. Aragorn managed to take a quick drink, and the coughs subsided. "Thank you. The arrow we removed from-" he took a deep breath. "The arrows we found were barbed, so it would do more damage pulling it out. Our best chance is to push it the rest of the way through." Pippin started to protest, but Aragorn went on. "Do not worry. It is almost there anyway. You can probably feel the point through the skin on my back, almost."

"Alright." Said Merry. His face was white, and it did not look llike he was happy about what he had to do. "But we don't have bandages or anything…"

"We will make do without them. Do you have something to stop the bleeding, though? I fear I cannot loose anymore blood." Pippin nodded and picked up the shirt. "Okay, Merry you can push the arrow. Pippin, hold me down by my good shoulder, that's it. Be ready with the cloth."

Merry took a deep breath.

"Okay….one….two…NOW!" He seized the arrow shaft and drove it through. Aragorn unleashed a cry of agony and arched his back. Pippin put all of his weight on Aragorn's arm, only just holding him down. Once Merry saw the arrow slide onto the grass, he shouted. "Now Pippin!"

Pippin grabbed the shirt and pressed it to the gaping hole in Aragon's shoulder. Aragorn was finally lying still, but his chest heaved and his breath was coming in gasps.

After a few minutes, the bloodflow on both sides subsided. Aragorn gave Merry a pained smile in between breaths.

"That…was…a dirty trick." he said. Merry grinned cautiously.

"Gandalf told me about you always getting injured and the tricks everyone would play." Merry said happily. Pippin smiled broadly.

"I remember that! He said that Lord Elrond would always have to put sleeping herbs in your drinks because you wouldn't stay in bed!" Aragorn scowled heartily.

And for a moment, the hobbits' quiet laughter drowned out the despair in their hearts.

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**Well there we go! **

**So sorry I didn't get the responses out, but school is so incredibly hectic. I don't think I can reply for the last chapter either, so many thanks to lindahoyland, Ainu Laire, Anastasia Who, Pip4, viggomaniac, Leif of Rohan, Patty, fliewatuet, iheartquines, and Luinthien. I really appreciate your wonderful reviews! They keep me alive! WOOT!**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**QueenoFlarmphgal**


	8. Running

**Yes, it is an update! YAY! To make up for being late, I added a bit more angst and Legolas and Gimli! So you can put away your weapons now…**

Running…running…..

Pippin wondered aimlessly if they were any closer to where they were going. He thought by now they would have to be at least halfway…

As he tried to summon a mental map of the South, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry of pain somewhere behind him. Pippin winced and tried to keep running.

Last night, after removing the arrow, they had bound the wound as best they could, and then cleaned the cut on his arm. Aragorn hadn't moved or cried out during the whole procedure, but Pippin knew that it had pained him intensely. Aragorn had decided that there was nothing else that required immediate attention, and persuaded them to drink the last of the water. But before Ugluk had stormed back over to them they were able to find the ranger's coat and help him put it on over his still-bloody back.

But even though he was for the most part stable last night, running this much was hurting him. Twice already he had become dizzy and fallen. Though the orcs just yanked him back up and pushed him to get him started, Pippin knew that if it continued to happen, Ugluk would intervene…

He shoved the thoughts to the back of his head and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

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Gimli grunted as he propelled himself up a steep slope with his axe. This land was too hilly, he decided. And the sun glaring down didn't help either.

"Legolas," he shouted to the figure far ahead of him. "Can we take a quick break for food?" Before him, the elf slowed down and waited for Gimli to catch up next to him. He grinned.

"Well, Gimli, is all of this too much for the ever-hardy dwarf?" said Legolas, sitting down cheerfully. Gimli scowled at him and began to sift through one of the packs, trying to remember which one had the food in it. His question was answered as a dagger clattered out onto the grass. Legolas instantly sobered and looked away.

Gimli hastily shoved the dagger back in. It was Aragorn's. They had found it, along with several other concealed weapons that Aragorn had borne, in a heap by the trail. Legolas had quietly picked them up and put them in Aragorn's pack, along with his sword, and continued running, though Gimli noticed that he had increased the pace.

"There," he proclaimed as he finally found a wafer of lembas. He handed half to Legolas, who took it and began eating it quietly. Gimli looked around carefully and sat down. He jumped up again with a shout of pain.

"What is it? Are you alright?" Legolas snapped back and jumped up, daggers drawn.

"No, no, it's nothing." Gimli mumbled. "I just poked myself with something, is all." Legolas laughed.

"Well, it seems you sat on a pin! Let me find it." Legolas got down on his knees and sifted through the grass where Gimli was sitting. Suddenly he froze.

"Legolas? What is it, lad?" Gimli stooped and looked over Legolas's shoulder. He gasped.

Cupped in Legolas's palm was Pippin's Elven brooch. Of course, they didn't know whose it was. And frankly, they didn't care.

"It is a sign!" Legolas exclaimed. All traces of melancholy were gone from his fair face, and he jumped to his feet. "At least one of the hobbits is alive, and capable of leaving us signs. We must go now!" Gimli heartily agreed. They packed up quickly, and Legolas quickly scanned the imprints in the grass.

"Can you tell how close we are?" Gimli asked. Legolas frowned.

"I can, but I'm not very good at it. But this grass is already straightening, so I would guess that it's about a day or two old."

"Let's get moving then!" Gimli clapped Legolas on the shoulder and took off. Grinning broadly, Legolas sped up and easily passed Gimli. As Anor rose still higher, she smiled on the two enheartened companions.

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Aragorn was not doing well.

He continually saw hazy spots floating around his line of vision, and he kept experiencing bouts of dizziness, which often resulted in him tripping or falling. Which did not please his orc companions.

And on top of that, his back blazed with an intense fire, and his shoulder felt like it was being slowly pulled off. Not a very good day.

Aragorn stumbled and nearly fell. An orc grabbed his wounded arm and pushed him back into his run. He could not help giving off a weak cry, but instantly regretted it as he saw Pippin's curly head dart back toward him. Aragorn gave him the best smile he could muster, and tried to focus on where they were going. Isengard…so that meant they were passing through Rohan. Perhaps they would cross paths with a group of Rohirrim, or riders from Gondor. Anything would help now.

Suddenly another wave of fatigue and pain swept over him. He gasped, and tried to keep his balance, knowing that falling would double his agony. But the Valar had other plans, and inserted a rock directly in front of his foot.

Aragorn tripped and fell with a thud, uttering a low moan. He blinked slowly and tried to regain his hearing, which had been reduced to a dull roar. Aragorn suddenly realized that no orcs were yanking him back onto his feet. In fact, they were spreading away from him, making a sort of ring around him. This was not good.

And then, through his haze, he saw the one thing that could make his day better: Ugluk.

He was striding back in the rows, looking furious. Aragorn caught a glimpse of Pippin's worried face in the group, but that was the last thing he saw before a large, black fist came in contact with his head. He jerked back and tried to curl in on himself, but Ugluk wasn't done.

"You filthy slime of a tark, you're slowing us down on purpose!" Ugluk growled. He leaned down and grabbed Aragorn's throat, choking him effectively. Slowly he lifted him in the air. The ranger gasped for breath, but did not appear to have the strength to fight. Ugluk brought him higher up until they were face to face.

"I grow tired of you, ranger." Ugluk hissed in his face. He dropped Aragorn like a stone and drew his dagger.

"No!" A small, strong voice cried out. Merry was shoving his way forward. He ran to Aragorn's side and tried to prop the wheezing ranger on his side. Merry saw at once that their makeshift bandage on his shoulder was soaked with blood, and was dripping it down into Aragorn's coat.

"What did you say, little scum?" Ugluk snarled, knife in hand. Merry shrank back, but one look back at Aragorn rebirthed his courage.

"He has suffered enough! Please, leave him alone!" Merry said with a quavering voice. Beside him, he felt Aragorn stir.

"Mer-ry, don't…please…just…" Merry placed a hand on his chest and turned back to Ugluk. To his dismay, he was grinning as if he had just had a sick idea. Merry had a sudden sinking feeling.

"Listen to the little rat!" The huge orc jeered. Several of his companions laughed. Ugluk stalked forward. He ripped Merry from Aragorn's side and shoved him into the crowd, where several hands held him fast. Merry struggled with all his strength, sure that nothing good was about to happen. He was right.

Ugluk circled around Aragorn, stroking his knife. Aragorn stayed where he was, following Ugluk warily with his eyes. Suddenly Ugluk lashed out with his dagger. Aragorn, however, saw it coming and swiftly rolled over and onto his feet. Merry breathed out in relief. Aragorn would not go down without a fight. But he did not miss the wince that flashed across his face.

Ugluk snarled in frustration and again began circling. Aragorn backed away slowly and carefully. But his overworked body quickly began protesting against his sudden movement, and he stumbled slightly. That was all Ugluk needed.

Again he charged, and this time his knife hit something other than air. The knife bit into Aragorn's cheek, creating a long and bloody gash. Just at the end, Ugluk flipped his knife backward and rammed the hilt into the ranger's skull. It connected with a dull thud, and Aragorn slammed to the ground, unconscious and again bleeding.

Merry watched, transfixed with horror. It was all his fault. If he did not just shut his mouth, as Aragorn had said, this wouldn't have happened…Ugluk kicked Aragorn onto his stomach.

"Now we won't have him slowing us down." He growled. "Let's get moving! You! Haul him along; there may be some use in him later. And you," he turned to Merry. "Let that be a lesson to you. I can make your friend suffer a lot more, if I wish. So I advise you not to tell me what to do." He closed his speech with a heavy punch to Merry's stomach. Merry doubled over, and for the first time, began to despair.

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**Well, there you go. And now I must say something: **

**The reason I couldn't update sooner was simply that I am SWAMPED in homework. It is NOT FUN, and I would love to update sooner, but my teachers won't let me. So I will keep up this story, but the updates will probably come a little later. And I'm so sorry, but I just can't keep up reviewer responses. So PLEASE keep reviewing! It will bring me more joy than ever! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	9. Freedom has a price

Aragorn was still unconcious, and now they had stopped for a rest, though Pippin was in serious doubts about where they stopped. They were at the border of a great wood, with trees huge and tall, and yet there was an air of mystery about them. And yet Pippin still suspected that there was more to it than the orcs let on. They were talking in hushed voices, and Ugluk looked to be in a particularly bad mood. Pippin was secretly grateful that Aragorn was out so that Ugluk would have no reason to take his anger out on him.

But his gratitude ended too soon. As soon as they had slowed to the stop, the orc carrying Aragorn dropped him with a dull thud. Though Aragorn's eyes remained shut, he moaned softly and tried to curl himself up. Ugluk barged over and seized him by his arm.

"Wake up, slime! You've had your little rest, and now you're to sit more, but any noise and you'll get it, understand? Do you, you sniveling dog?" Pippin watched as Ugluk spat out the last sentence and realized what was coming. Sure enough, Aragorn mumbled something under his breath, which Pippin was quite sure was not in the Common Speech, and yet was still an insult. Ugluk seemed to also take it that way. Lips turingin into a snarl, he immediately slammed his huge fist into the new cut on Strider's face, reopening it and starting it bleeding again.

Aragorn winced at the new bloodflow, but Ugluk seemed oddly satisfied. He again grabbed the ranger's arm and dragged him over to the nearest tree. Ugluk slammed Aragorn's torn back and bound hands into it, while two other orcs held him. The huge orc then found a long piece of cord, and used it to bind Aragorn tightly to the tree. He then got another section and rebound his legs.

"Now then. You sit tight here, right?" The orcs laughed and walked away to where someone was fighting over food. Pippin crawled toward the prone figure as fast as he could, Merry close behind him.

"Strider? Strider, are you alright?" Merry asked worriedly. Aragorn did not answer. He was currently trying to not express his opinion of the troll who was cutting off his back and sitting on his arm. "Strider? Please, let us know you're alive." Aragorn cracked open his eyes and tried to focus. Merry's face swam before his eyes, but through his haze Aragorn could tell he was worried.

"Mer-ry." Aragorn whispered, his voice raspy. When Ugluk had grasped his throat earlier it may have done more damage that he thought. "Are you…are you two-"

"Strider, do not even ask us if we are okay. _You _are the one who is…is hurt. Your face…" Pippin carefully ripped off a section of his sleeve and pressed it firmly to the new cut. Aragorn winced sharply and turned his head away.

"Strider, we must tend to you. It's not our fault that the orcs are picking on you. Hold still." Said Mery firmly as he pressed more cloth to the ranger's shoulder. Aragorn gasped and said softly,

"You two should not be doing this. You should be trying to escape. We are close now, to the orcs' destination. You two…" He broke off again into a coughing fit. Merry and Pippin exchanged a worried glance. Aragorn was looking very bad, and if he did not get help soon…Pippin shuddered. As they watched, Aragorn caught his breath, which quickly evened out. He took a deep breath, then grinned.

"It's not my fault they're picking on me either, you know." He said playfully to Merry, who scowled.

"Well, perhaps not entirely, but you're certainly not helping! If you keep insulting them like you do they will kill you anyway!" Merry countered. To his surprise, Aragorn broke into laughter. Merry exchanged a glance with Pippin and said, "What did I say?"

"Y-you have no idea-" more laughter "-how many times I have said that-" deep breath "-to Legolas." Aragorn choked out. Merry and Pippin both grinned and also laughed. But unfortunately, their mirth was quickly ended.

Ugluk had seemingly sensed joy and stalked over to their small group, along with two others. Aragorn immediately replaced the joy in his eyes with stone.

"Well, having fun, are you? You three are making a right little racket. We can hear it clear across the camp! That won't do. Just because we're close is no reason to get ansty. Gag him," he indicated Aragorn, "And separate them." Ugluk watched with satisfaction as the orcs first yanked Merry and Pippin away from their companion, dropping them several yards away. Then they approached the ranger with a length of dirty black fabric. Aragorn eyed it distastefully, and Pippin realized that he did not intend to make this easy.

The larger of the two grabbed Aragorn's chin and forced it to the side, exposing the back of his head and the cut on the side. The other one pulled the cloth over Aragorn's face and held it in place, while the other tied it in the back. Suddnely, the orc holding the cloth leapt back with a howl. The hobbits looked on, amazed. Apparently Aragorn had bitten his finger.

"Just get it done already!" Ugluk barked at the orc clutching his finger. Growling menacingly, he grabbed Aragorn's head and slammed it back into the tree trunk. He was instantly knocked out and hung limp in his bonds. Grinning, the orcs finished their job. Once Aragorn was securely gagged, they disappeared into the forest, evidently keeping guard from any attempt to escape. Ugluk left them with a sastisfied smile.

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Several hours later, Merry awoke. Looking around groggily, he realized that the sun had just gone down and the stars were appearing. He turned over and located Pippin, who was staring motionlessly at something. Merry was about to ask what was going on when Pippin answered him early.

"He still hasn't woken." Pippin murmured in a low voice. Not bothering to ask who 'he' was, Merry followed Pippin's gaze to Strider's still motionless form. He let out a sigh.

"How long have I been asleep?" Merry asked. Pippin shrugged.

"I don't know. A couple of hours, I would gues, but- wait! I think Strider's waking up!" Sure enough, Aragorn was shifting restlessly. Merry began to call out to him when he remembered the gag, and the two orcs in the woods. Instead, he silently watched as Aragorn quickly took in his surroundings. He seemed to suddenly realize that the hobbits were not beside him. Aragorn's keen gaze swept across the campsite, until it came to rest on the two of them. Pippin smiled and gave him a small wave. Aragorn nodded and settled back against the tree, wincing.

"He seems to be no worse." Merry remarked, trying to lighten the mood. Pippin said nothing, but Merry knew from all of his years of being his friend that his cousin was afraid. "Hey," he said, shaking Pippin gently. "He was not meant to die here, and neither were we. We will escape. Strider said that Legolas and Gimli were coming after us. We just have to keep hoping that they come soon."

Pippin smiled, and simply said, "I know." But at that moment, the camp was seemingly thrown into chaos. Orcs were appearing everywhere, talking quickly and taking up weapons. Merry noticed several orcs run pelting in from the dark forest, pulling out bows and shouting in their harsh tongue. "What's going on?" Pippin whispered.

"I don't know." Merry replied truthfully. Across from them, he noticed that Strider was sitting up, looking alert. Merry decided that he was also trying to find out what had seemingly frightened the orcs. Suddenly his questions were answered.

"What did the scouts say?" Behind them, one orc questioned another, who was sharpening his cruel blade.

"He saw a single horseman, probably a scout." The other one replied. The first orc looked shocked.

"Well, did he kill it? Or did he just let the Whiteskin go ambling off to tell the rest?" he fired back. Merry could see the fear in every detail of his face.

"The filth said he shot it, but he didn't wait around to see if it was alive." The orc finished with his blade and stood up. "These wretched Northerners! We should have left them behind. Can't do anything right, the devils, except run and hide back among the ones who actually fight." His companion nodded in agreement, and the two walked off.

Pippin felt his heart soar. There were people coming! Anyone who was an enemy of the orcs was sure to be some help to them. Pippin turned to Merry.

"Did you hear that? There's some sort of army coming! They can help us!"

Merry smiled. "Yes, Pippin, I heard. I wonder who they are?"

"I bet Strider would know." Said Pippin wistfully. Merry nodded, and they both looked back toward plains, each lost in his own hopes.

Suddenly a hand grabbed the backs of their cloaks and rolled them over. The hobbits shuddered as they found themselves face-to-face with Grishnakh.

"Well, my little ones, now things are a bit awkward, aren't they? Swords and whips here, horsemen with spears there. Little people should not meddle in affairs that are too big for them, hmm?" His pale eyes shone dangerously. The orc started to feel their clothes, and the Pippin had a sudden realization. _Grishnakh thinks we have the Ring! He's looking for it now, when Ugluk isn't here!_

As the groping continued, Pippin decided to play a game of chance.

"You won't find it that way," he said quietly. "If you really want it, you could untie our legs and we could save you a lot of time." Grishnakh stopped to look at him, and so did Merry. What was Pippin talking about? We aren't carrying anything, not like…Merry quickly understood.

"O-ho, very dangerous, little one." Grishnakh was stroking his hideous face.

"Perhaps," said Merry carefully. "But we'll do nothing and say nothing, unless you untie us." Grishnakh suddenly laughed and stood up. Behind him, Merry caught a glimpse of Aragorn. He was struggling mightily, cold fury in his eyes. Merry realized that Aragorn was trying to get to them, to protect them…

All of a sudden, Grishnakh scooped them up, one hobbit under each arm, his hands tightly clamped over their mouths. He looked around cautiously and walked quickly to the forest, right beside Strider. As they passed the ranger, Pippin caught his eye. Rapidly understanding his look, Pippin sank his small teeth into Grishnakh's hand. The orc let out a cruse and dropped the young hobbit, who tried to crawl away.

As the huge orc bent to seize Pippin again, something he did not think of happened. Aragorn's strong boots swung out and caught Grishnakh in the center of the chest. He flew backward, dropping Merry and making solid contact with an oak tree. The orc sank to the ground and did not move.

Merry lay where he was dropped, half stunned. At last, he raised his head and looked back at the ranger where he sat, breathing heavily. Merry at once understood what he had done. Aragorn had somehow turned to face them in his bonds and caught Grishnakh at the perfect time. Pippin was already kneeling next to him, looking worried. Merry crawled over, still lost for words.

"You…you saved us." He said slowly, watching Aragorn's face. The ranger did not look up, and Merry decided something was wrong. Then it hit him. The gag must be altering his breathing.

"Pippin, get that gag off of him. He's having trouble." Pippin nodded and slid the material over the ranger's head. Aragorn took several deep breaths and straightened.

"Merry…his knife. Do you see it anywhere?" The hobbit went back to the corpse and tried to find it.

"No, it's not here. I think it flew out of his pocket when he hit the tree."

"Alright," Strider said softly. "Pippin, free yourself, and Merry too, if you can." Pippin instantly complied, unwrapping the cords around his wrists and beginning to pull at the ones on his ankles.

"Strider, what's going on?" Merry questioned.

"The Rohirrrim, a legion of fighters from Rohan, are near. Now is the time to escape."

Pippin finished with his bonds and got up, beginning to fumble with Merry's. After a while, he got the simple knots undone and both of them were free. Pippin, however, was not yet done. He moved behind Aragorn and started to pull at the tight cords.

"No, Pippin, do not bother, just-" But the hobbit refused to listen to the ranger's pleas. He stubbornly kept pulling at the complicated knots that bound Aragorn to the tree. But after a little while, the hobbit faltered.

"I-I cannot get them undone." Pippin quietly stated. Merry refused to believe him.

"Let me see it." He knelt beside Pippin and pulled at the knots also. But they still refused to move.

Aragorn sensed their trouble and quickly whispered, "There is no time. You two must go now, or the fighting will come here." Pippin emerged from the back of the tree.

"We can't leave you here! They'll kill you if we're discovered missing!" he said indignantly. Hearing this, Merry worked even harder at untangling the ropes. But to his dismay, they would not budge. He slowly walked back around and stood silently next to Pippin.

Aragorn easily sensed both hobbits' hidden distress.

"It is better this way," he tried to convince them. "I would only slow you down." Suddenly Pippin burst into tears. He dropped to his knees, burying his face in Aragorn's mostly uninjured shoulder. Merry just stood, trying to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes and dripped across his face.

After a moment, Aragorn gently nudged Pippin with his head.

"You must go, little one." He murmured softly. Pippin nodded mutely and stood up. "Do either of you have any supplies?" Merry started to shake his head, but Pippin reached deep into a pocket and revealed one or two crushed wafers of lembas. "Good. Keep that, Pippin. You two should try to go north, and strike the river Entwash. There is good water, and berries too. Wait there for a while. If I do not find you in a day…retrace your steps and try to see if you can come upon a herdsman who will help you."

Merry nodded, choked with tears. He noticed that however steady Strider's voice was, there were still tracks of tears running down his face, barely visible in the darkness.

"Come here for a moment." Aragorn said quietly. As they knelt, Aragorn kissed the hobbits' foreheads and said, "Never forget: we will meet again…Whether in this world or the next."

"Strider-" Suddenly Merry's words were cut off by hideous shrieks in the dark.

"You must go. Go on, before they come here." The elder hobbit nodded and beckoned to Pippin, who stood silently. The two of them stealthily walked into the forest.

Just before they walked out of sight into the darkness, Aragorn could see Pippin turn around.

"Thank you." Were the last words he said before vanishing into the night.

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**Well, there you go! Hope it can satisfy everyone until next time! **

**And many thanks to viggomaniac, Luinthien, imaginigma, lindahoyland, and Ainu Laire for being so kind and understanding about the terrible monster that is homework. **

**See you soon! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	10. Left behind

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Aragorn watched silently as the younger of the hobbits also vanished into the melding darkness. Not until he was sure they were long gone did Aragorn allow himself to relax against the tree, if you could call it relaxing. His back throbbed with pain, and even the slight contact it made with the tree was enough to set it off. Aragorn waited with clenched teeth for the pain to subside, and when it didn't, decided to ignore it the best he could.

Now that the hobbits were safe, or as safe as possible given the circumstances, he had time to figure out how he could escape himself. But there wasn't much to consider.

Aragorn was still securely bound to the tree, with his hands bound between his back and the trunk. He had no access to anything sharp or even resembling a knife, not that he could somehow get it. The only way he could think of getting himself free was to grind the cord against the tree's rough bark, but that would mean putting pressure on his battered chest and arrow wound, which couldn't be done.

The ranger sighed in frustration and tried to sidle along the tree to get a look at the battle. As he carefully inched to the side, his back suddenly caught the tree's rough bark and he could not help emitting a weak cry of pain. Still, he pushed himself just a little more…

There. He could see many torches, and in their flickering light the shapes of orcs, and horses with tall figures upon them. An idea slowly formulated in his mind. If he could somehow get one of the Rider's attention, perhaps they would come to investigate the sound and find him.

Of course, there was always the chance that the supposed savior would simply send an arrow at him to investigate, but that was a risk he would have to take. But what could he possibly do to grasp the attention of a preoccupied Rider? An obvious answer was to shout for help. But Aragorn seriously doubted that he could muster enough strength to call loud enough. But if he could automatically generate an outburst…

Aragorn realized what he must do. Slowly, he pulled himself forward until he was straining at his bonds. Then, praying someone would hear, the ranger slammed his injured back against the tree.

An agonized scream rang across the forest, but Aragorn was in too much pain to hear it. His back blazed with a new intensity and he could not see, hear, or speak. The only thing he could feel was the pain rising up, threatening to take over him. Until a few minutes late, when he was sure that the pain would get no worse, he tried to regain his senses. But what he saw was not reassuring.

Before him stood two orcs, grinning broadly and fingering their clumsy blades. Aragorn felt a sick feeling rise in his chest, but he would not allow himself to show any fear. He stared determinedly ahead.

"Well, it seems that our little friend is lonesome, eh? Perhaps he's sad that all of our boys are off fighting. Let's cheer him up, shall we?" The orc who had spoken cut the ropes binding Aragorn to the tree in a quick thrust that grazed his chest. Aragorn had no opportunity to express his opinion, however, as the other orc jerked him to his feet by pulling on his wounded shoulder. The ranger moaned softly, but somehow got to his feet, leaning heavily against the tree.

The first orc glanced warily back at the fighting.

"We don't want any of them Whiteskins interfering with our game, do we? Better gag this one again." The other nodded in agreement and found the cloth in the dirt, and again pressed it against Aragorn's mouth. This time Aragorn had no energy to object, as he was preoccupied with trying to keep himself upright. As soon as the orc finished, he was rewarded by giving Aragorn a swift punch directly to the abdomen.

Not expecting an attack, Aragorn fell to his knees, wheezing and trying to will his lungs to work again. But all too soon, another hit came this time to ribs. He only heard the snap of another breakage before he was forced to the ground by a kick to his ravaged back.

Above the loud buzzing in his ears, Aragorn was somehow able to make out the orcs' sneers.

"Looks like he's already dead, he does! Well, he hasn't much farther to go!" The remark was soon followed by the swipe of a dagger, etching a long gash onto Aragorn's leg.

Somewhere in his escaping consciousness Aragorn found a sick sort of humor. 'Well,' he thought exasperatedly. 'This may hinder my escape.' But he had no time to ponder this, as he found himself pulled up again, this time by his bruised throat. An orc's leering face entered his slowly disappearing line of vision.

"This is the end, you sniveling pig! So sorry it had to end so soon, but we really must get back to wiping out your little friends."

"Hah! The scum probably thought he would be rescued!" The other orc smirked as he brought his scimitar up to the only uncovered part of the ranger's neck. But Aragorn did not hear this last part. The only thing he was aware of was the pain, and that was slowly disappearing. Combined with his increasing lack of air, Aragorn's consciousness began to slip away. He blissfully welcomed the escape to his pain, and unknowing to the orc, he blacked out in his grip.

But if Aragorn had waited a few seconds more to give in, he would have seen the arrow that directly pierced the orc's sword hand, causing the orc to drop his prone body. But then several more arrows followed the first, killing both orcs, one of which slumped its hideous form over the ranger's failing one.

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**Well, there we go! An update that actually was on time-ish! **

**Next chapter should be up soon, especially if my teachers keep letting up on my hw! And also if I keep getting wonderful reviews like the ones I received from viggomaniac, iheartquines, Luinthien, Leif of Rohan, and grumpy. And special thanks to Ainu Laire for catching my mistake! And reviewer responses are out! **

**See you soon! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**

**Oh, and apologies to grumpy, whom I could not email responses to. Sorry! **


	11. Help has arrived

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The low voices of the Riders rose and fell softly in tune with their prayers. They stood grouped together around a mound that was mounted with fifteen spears, representing their fifteen companions lost in the battle with the orcs. The sun had just risen, bringing a red dawn to commemorate the lost ones.

Once their prayer was complete, they had to return to business. Eomer quickly ordered the remainder of his men to collect the orc carcasses and put them in a pile to burn. The men obediently complied, though most were loath to touch the disgusting creatures.

One of these men was Deorwin. He was an experienced Rider, but he had lost his parents to orcs when he was young, greatly fueling his hatred for them. Nonetheless he circled the edge of Fangorn's trees, dragging out orc bodies.

As he neared some tall trees, he found several bodies already slumped over each other. As he struggled to pull one off of the others, his eyes caught something other than black. Deorwin abandoned his efforts and instead pushed it off of the pile it had died on. But what it had hidden made the Rider jump back in surprise.

There, slumped on the ground, was the body of a man. But Deorwin was certain that he was not one of Eomer's company. And the man did not even look like he was from Rohan. Then what was he doing here?

Deowin crept closer, keeping a firm hand on his sword. But even as he approached he saw that the man was bound and gagged. As he got a better view, his heart sank.

The man was badly injured. There was a blood-soaked cloth on his shoulder, but many other cuts marred his bared chest. Furthur inspection showed a garish slash on his left arm, as well as one on his leg. Suddenly Deowin leapt for the man's neck. He had to see if he was alive. But in his heart he knew it would be nothing short of a miracle for him to be alive. He knew too much of what orcs did to their prisoners to hope.

But to his utmost surprise, he found a faint but steady pulse. All doubts flew from his mind. Deowin quickly decided to take the man to Eomer. He would know what to do.

Kneeling, he cut the man's bonds and carefully pulled them off. Blood trickled from deep cuts in his wrists, a result of the too-tight cords. Fairly satisfied, Deowin carefully scooped the man into his arms.

He quickly walked to where Eomer was surveying the last of the orcs being brought in.

"My lord, when I was gathering orcs I found this man. I believe he was their prisoner. He is alive, but he is badly wounded. He needs immediate aid." Deowin spoke quickly, praying that there was something they could do. Eomer stepped forward and studied the man's injuries.

"Has he awoken or said anything of who he is since you found him?" he questioned Deowin.

"No, my lord. I think he has been unconscious for a while. I have no idea who he is. All I know is that he needs our help." By now a small crowd had gathered around them. Some of the Riders were staring hard at the man's face, thinking.

"Somehow he looks familiar." one of them remarked. "But I can't recall…"

"Wait!" A voice called from the back. The Riders parted to let one of them through. His name was Heoruf. He was one of the older Riders, already almost sixty, but he still had remarkable energy and stamina, so Theoden let him stay on guard.

Now he carefully studied the face of the man before him. He wet a piece of fabric with his canteen and gently wiped some of the blood from the man't bruised face. Heoruf's face completely changed, to one of utter surprise.

"I know this man!" he whispered, amazed. "Surely your fathers have told you of Thorongil, the great captain of Rohan! This is he! I remember when he was here. I was just a young boy then, probably no more than ten, but he was our hero! He was kind and curious, but like a tiger on the battlefield. But he left for Gondor many many years ago. We thought he was dead! Why I-"

"Alright, that's enough, Heoruf." Eomer interrupted. "So this is the famous Thorongi," he paused to again search the face of the man before him. "Well, though he is alive now, he won't be for much longer. Riders, load up and prepare to leave! He needs immediate aid. Alas that Gárulf, our best healer, has fallen!" With that Eomer strode over to his horse and quickly mounted him.

Deorwin also headed slowly to his horse, his mind whirling with thoughts. To think that he had discovered this wretched man only to find out htat he was a member of Rohirric history. He carefully lifted the Thorongil onto his horse, quickly following to keep him upright. He settled the man in front of him and took up the reins, following the rest of his companions.

But through this whole ordeal, Thorongil did not stir.

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**Well there you go! So he is found at last…**

**Sorry for the short chapter, but I really had to hurry to get this out on time. Much longer next time, I promise! And Legolas and Gimli will return to the story in the next chapter too! **

**So PLEASE REVIEW!**

**QueenofFlarmphgal**

**And I am now using the cool new system of responding, so log in if you want a response when you review! Thanks!**


	12. In the hands of friends

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"There are riders coming."

Gimli looked quizzically up at Legolas. He was standing up straight, head cocked to the side. Gimli listened with all his might, but couldn't hear anything but the wind.

"Are you sure?" Gimli couldn't help asking. Legolas scowled at him.

"Of course I'm sure." The elf muttered. But Gimli noted that he did not sound quite as confident as he would have a few days ago. Yesterday night, Legolas had trouble uncovering the orcs' trail in the dark, and they had been greatly delayed. If Gimli hadn't spotted an abandoned iron shoe that was half-buried in the grass they would have gone the wrong way. The dwarf had had a marvelous time reprimanding Legolas all night, which in his mind, quite made up for the lack of sleep.

"What should we do?" Gimli wondered outloud. Legolas shaded his eyes, scanning the plains for the first signs of them.

"I'm not sure. Most likely they are Men of Rohan, but they could be thieves or raiders. We should wait until we see them to reveal ourselves- but wait! I see them now. Yes, they are Riders. They are a large number, and I see some empty saddles."

"Any sign of the hobbits or Aragorn?" Gimli quickly asked.

"I…I'm not sure. I do not see them, but they could be there. Here, we can wait for them here." Legolas turned and sat down, leaning against a large rock. Gimli quickly followed him.

They did not wait long. After only a minute or two, the foremost riders swept passed them. Legolas quickly stood. Several riders spotted him, and called out. With astonishing speed, the legion turned their horses and quickly surrounded the two of them.

"What business brings an Elf and a Dwarf to the Riddermark?" One man pushed his horse to the front. He wore fine armor, and from his tall helm white horsehair floated in the breeze.

"We are tracking a party of orcs that came this way. They took three of our friends captive." Said Legolas coolly, though Gimli thought he caught a flicker of worry across his face.

The rider studied them carefully and dismounted.

"Who are you?" He asked bluntly.

On a sudden burst of impulse, Gimli said, "Tell us your name, Horsemaster, and we will tell you ours." The rider flashed him a dark glance and replied coldly,

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." Gimli growled at him and fingered his axe. But before anything more could happen, another rider called out to them and rode forward.

"Please, wait. You say you are tracking a party of orcs?" Legolas nodded slowly. "They are dead. We slaughtered them in the night."

"Did you find anyone other than orcs?" Legolas quickly asked, daring to hope. The rider thought for a moment, then started to shake his head.

"I don't recall-

"Yes we did!" An older man dismounted and stepped forward. "Do you not remember? Deowin found Thorongil!" Several more soldiers nodded in agreement.

"Who is Thorongil?" Legolas asked, his heart sinking.

"He was one of our greatest captains from a long time ago. We had thought he was long dead, but we found him here!" The old man replied. Legolas looked down and did not reply. Seeing his sudden grief, Gimli asked,

"Has he said anything of other captives? Another man, or two hobbits?"

"What are hobbits?" The first man asked curiously.

"Well, they are…um…small people. I suppose they would look like human children to you."

"I am sorry, but we found no children, and the only man was Thorongil." The man replied. "I am sorry."

Gimli nodded wordlessly, focusing carefully at the ground.

"Has Thorongil said anything of other captives?" Legolas suddenly asked.

"No," the man said. "He is badly wounded and unconscious. Our only healer was killed, and his supplies lost. We are taking him to Edoras."

Legolas sighed. "Perhaps we could take a look at him. Our taken companion left us with a great store of healing supplies." Some of the other men looked at him with wonder.

"That would be very considerate of you." The man said slowly. "Deowin! Bring Thorongil forward. They said they can help him."

There was the sound of someone dismounting, and several long coughs. The men parted to reveal a tall Rider bearing another man's still form. Legolas stepped forward, his eyes dully scanning his injuries. But then his keen eyes settled on the man's face.

Legolas felt his breath hitch in his throat. He felt an overwhelming mixture of worry and relief steadily rising in his heart, rendering him speechless.

Suddenly it passed. Legolas quickly pulled off his cloak and spread it on the ground. Taking Aragorn from Deowin, he gently laid him out. He began to reach for Aragorn's pack, but something stopped him. He instinctively grabbed Aragorn's throat, feeling for a pulse. His own heart hammered loudly and the only thing he could do was pray that his friend was holding on.

Gimli saw something was wrong.

"Legolas, what…" His voice trailed off as he also recognized the man. With a strangled cry, he seized Aragorn's pack and began rifling through it for the healing supplies. The Rohirrim watched wide-eyed.

Deowin, however, knew what was going on. He had known it the second the elf had looked at Thorongil's face. The elf's fair features had suddenly filled with grief mingled with relief.

"I take it this is your lost companion." He said quietly. Legolas nodded wordlessly. "Give them some room!" Surprised, the Riders obeyed and moved back, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Legolas smiled his thanks from his spot next to Aragorn. He had found a weak and faint pulse, but it had assured him his friend was indeed alive, however barely. Now he was carefully wiping the blood from his friend's body. There was so much of it, he could barely understand how Aragorn lived at all…

But there was something wrong. Several of Aragorn's wounds were bleeding, but not much, and only the wound on his arm and the arrow hole were infected. So where was Aragorn's weakness coming from? Frowning, Legolas gently felt his friend's chest, finding several broken ribs, but he was pretty sure they hadn't pierced everything. As he reached for more water, he caught sight of his right hand. It was covered in bright red blood.

He muttered a curse. Aragorn had a hidden injury, but where? Suddenly a horrible thought seized Legolas. He carefully turned his friend on his side, generating no reaction, and looked at the back of Aragorn's coat. It was black, revealing nothing, but when Legolas brushed his fingers against it, they came off red and Aragorn shuddered.

Fearing the worst, Legolas began to remove Aragorn's coat. To his dismay, it stuck to his back. Knowing how much his friend loved the tattered, worn coat, he was afraid to cut if off. But he could not just pull it…

"Gimli, help me with his coat. I fear that there is some wound on his back it is sticking to." Legolas said quickly. As Gimli readied himself on Aragorn's other side, Legolas whispered in his friend's ear. "Mellon nin, this will hurt. I am sorry, but it must be done." With that he took a deep breath and slowly peeled Aragorn's coat away from the skin.

When the coat was half off and the hidden wounds exposed, it took Legolas all of his self control to not scream out in anger. Aragorn's back was crisscrossed with many bloody lacerations, most of them infected from lack of proper care. But as they removed the final part of the coat, they accidentally pulled at a halfway formed scab. Aragorn cried out in agony, and his eyes opened. As he found Gimli holding him down, he strained to get free. His subconscious mind did not register that he was no longer with the orcs

Legolas hastily came in view and took his hand. Aragorn's eyes stopped to look at him.

"Estel, it's me, it's Legolas. You were rescued from the orcs by the Rohirrim. Do you remember?" Legolas prayed inwardly that he did not suffer a memory loss.

"Legolas," Aragorn gasped weakly. "I knew…knew you'd find me." His voice was hoarse and raspy from weakness and the constant abuse of his throat. Legolas smiled softly.

"Yes, of course I found you, you stubborn human. Did you have so little faith in my tracking skills?" Aragorn flashed him a small smile before a wave of pain forced it into a grimace. Suddenly he grasped Legolas's arm.

"The…hobbits? Did you…" But even as he spoke, his eyes rolled back and he fell once more into the dark oblivion. Gimli checked his pulse and was alarmed to find it barely existent.

"Legolas, he is getting weaker by the minute. We must tend to him now." Legolas quickly began to clean the exposed cuts on his back. He was worried to realize that Aragorn was not even responding to the pain he surely felt.

"Gimli, give me the infection reducing herb there."

"Which one?" Gimli asked. It wasn't his fault. The labels were all written in confounding Elvish.

"That one there, the dark brown." Gimli quickly located it and passed it to him. Legolas hesitated for a moment, then spread a generous amount over Aragorn's back. He moaned softly and thrashed weakly, but Gimli held him firmly. Legolas carefully finished and wrapped his friend's chest in long white bandages, which also sufficed as a split for his broken ribs.

"I scarcely know where else to begin." He muttered. Gimli heard him and smiled.

"Don't you worry, Elf. He's too stubborn to let something like this finish him." Legolas grinned back half-heartedly.

"That I know." The elf replied.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

About an hour later Deowin made his way to the elf and dwarf. The remainder of his company had stopped for a short rest, but they didn't seem to notice. Deowin couldn't help but admire the persistence they had in saving their friend.

"How is he?" he asked quietly, stooping beside the dwarf. Thorongil looked a little better, but he still had a fever and was having trouble breathing. The white bandages around his chest, wrists, face, and leg did not contrast quite as much as they should have against his pale skin.

"He is better, but still in danger." The elf replied softly. "I think we have him stabilized for a while. But I fear he is too weak to travel. How far is it to where you were taking him?"

"About a two day ride," Deowin replied. "But Eomer wishes to go at a good pace for we left without the king's leave." The elf frowned.

"Who is Eomer?" he asked. Deowin started, and realized he probably shouldn't have given the information away. Well, it was too late now.

"He is our captain. You were speaking to him earlier." The dwarf scowled.

"I remember him. And who are you?"

"My name is Deowin, son of Illúwin. I am the one who discovered Thorongil." He added hastily, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to give that information. He was right. Both of their expressions clearly changed, and the elf stood up and bowed.

"Well, Deowin son of Illúwin, it seems we owe you a great debt. I am Legolas of Mirkwood, and this is Gimli son of Glóin. And this is our friend Strider."

"Pleased to meet you Legolas, but you owe me no debt. I only hope he will recover." Deowin again looked at Thorongil, or Strider as Legolas had said. "Can I be of any assistance?"

"No, I think we-

The elf was cut off by a sudden flurry of movement. Across the camp riders were saddling their horses and getting ready to leave. Eomer came striding over to meet them.

"How is he?" He asked loudly.

"Strider is stable for now, but he cannot be moved, I'm afraid." Gimli replied, just as loud. Eomer seemed to consider it.

"Very well," he said slowly. He paused, then said softly, "Perhaps when he has recovered you can bring him to us. I'm sure there are many who wish to see him." With that, he nodded to Legolas and Gimli and strode off.

Deowin looked after him and said, "Well, I suppose this is goodbye." He shook hands with Legolas, then added, "Be sure that you bring him back. I think I would like to know him." Legolas nodded, and Deowin left to rejoin the Rohirrim.

The elf and dwarf watched as the great storm of riders slowly disappeared.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

**Well, there you have it! Our ranger is finally in his friend's hands! Hooray! **

** I am SO SORRY for the long wait. My teachers suddenly realized that finals were coming and gave us tons of review work. I've had to write this chapter at five-minute intervals for quite a while, though I cannot believe it has been this long. I am SO SORRY.**

** Hopefully next chapter will be up before Christmas, but I'm not sure. See you soon, and please review! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	13. Healing

Legolas tore his eyes from the disappearing cloud and back to his friend. Suddenly he felt very alone. He would have welcomed the warm bustle of the Riders, if only to have a distraction. He was brought back from his musings by Gimli shaking his shoulder.

"Laddie? We should probably make camp. Aragorn isn't going anywhere, and neither are we." Legolas nodded.

"The forest is just over there. We need firewood…"

"Go on," Gimli stood and pushed Legolas up. "I'll look after our friend, and you elves need your nature or something." He added with a shrug. Legolas grinned and shouldered his bow. He picked up a small hatchet that was in his pack, and started to walk off. He turned quickly.

"If he wakes, or if there's any change, call me." Legolas said. Gimli grinned and gave Legolas a shove.

"Of course, of course, now go!" Legolas smiled his thanks and disappeared down the hill.

Gimli turned and sat back down next to Aragorn, studying his face. It was pale and drawn with pain, even in sleep. Gimi gently brushed his fingers across the unconscious man's forehead. He shuddered, and Gimli quickly drew his hands back. Aragorn still had a raging fever, and would likely stay asleep. The dwarf sighed and began rifling though a pack for something to eat. The elf would not take this lightly. Gimli was starting to see the depth of Legolas's care for Aragorn. And he knew should Aragorn die, Legolas would not last much longer.

About half an hour later, Gimli had evolved to his pipe. The sound of hoofbeats suddenly struck Gimli's ears. He leapt up, clutching his axe. Sure enough, several horses were riding directly toward him and Aragorn. Gimli cursed violently under his breath, and even Aragorn stirred slightly with a moan.

"Hush, lad, it'll be alright," Gimli said softly, partly to himself. "You there, horseman!" He shouted. "What do you want?" The man did not reply, but kept coming. He was almost upon them.

Gimli growled in frustration and clutched his axe tighter. If this man wanted a fight, the by the Gods, he would get one!

When he was a few feet away from them, the horseman dismounted. He held his hands up in a sign of peace.

"Please," he said. "I do not mean any harm…"

Gimli eyed him suspiciously.

"Who are you?" he snarled, moving closer to Aragorn. The horseman started and pulled off his helmet.

"Do you not remember? I am Deowin, of the Rohirrim." Gimli recognized the man immediately, and lowered his axe.

"For the Gods' sake, Deowin, could you not have said something?" he muttered. Deowin smiled and knelt down beside him.

"Sorry…it is this helmet. I can hardly see or hear in it." He tossed it to the side.

"What are you doing back here?" Gimli asked curiously, setting his axe down.

"Eomer sent me to warn the nearby villages of the rising threat of orcs. He also bid me give you these," he waved a hand to the two other horses, "as he decided you would need them more than us. This is Hasufel, and the smaller one is Arod. They are good horses, and will serve you well. Is your friend any better?" he asked.

Gimli sighed. "No, there's no change since you last saw him." Deowin frowned.

"He is still bleeding." He said, gesturing to the blood spotted bandage on Aragorn's shoulder. "We should change his bandages." Gimli raised an eyebrow.

"'We'? Are you staying?" Deowin blushed.

"W-well I thought you might need some help, and I gathered some extra supplies from my companions, and our healer was training me for a while so I thought I might-

Gimi laughed. "Enough! I was jesting. You are welcome to stay, especially if you can help us."

Deowin smiled in relief, and began to unwrap Aragorn's bandages. Aragorn did not respond directly, but Gimli noticed that his breathing was slightly quickened at being touched. As Deowin finished unwrapping the bandage, Gimli sucked in a breath. It was still far from healed, and looked very painful. Deowin examined it carefully, turning Aragorn as to see the exit hole.

"He was very lucky with this arrow. Not only did it not pierce any bone, but it went straight through without severely damaging anything. And I am fairly certain it is free from infection."

"That is lucky," Gimli remarked. "Do you think you can do anything?"

Deowin frowned and looked closer.

"I don't think there is much I could do to enhance its healing, but if your friend will need that arm soon, perhaps we could cauterize it."

"Cauterize?" Gimli questioned. It did not sound good.

"Well, it would mean closing it by pressing a heated knife to it. The procedure will certainly be painful, but it will close it and keep it clean. But we would need a fire, for one."

"A fire!" Gimli jumped up. "Legolas just went to get some wood. Come to think of it, he's been gone a while. Blasted elf, where did he get to-

"Hello, Gimli." A voice behind him made him start. Legolas was just walking up, a large bundle of wood in his arms. Legolas frowned as he took in Deowin, the new horses, and Aragorn's exposed shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Legolas, you remember Deowin? Well, he came back to help us, as he has received some training and also got us some extra supplies." Gimli quickly explained. Deowin nodded, confirming his story.

"Oh, alright," Legolas said, setting down the wood. "Well then Deowin, do you have any advice?"

"Erm, well, his shoulder, if he will need his arm soon we should cauterize it which will stop the bleeding and help it heal." Deowin said very fast. Legolas considered for a moment, then nodded.

"Very well. I'll get the fire going, then. I think there are some clean daggers in Aragorn's pack that you can use." Deowin grinned and began to shuffle through the pack. After a short time, there was a good fire and they were ready.

Deowin heated the knife in the fire and prepared to press it down. He took several deep breaths. Gimli could see that he was very nervous about this.

"Would you like it if Legolas or I did it instead?" He asked. Deowin shook his head.

"No, I'll be fine…just a moment…" He took another breath, and quickly pressed the blade Aragorn's skin. Aragorn released an agonized cry and thrashed under Legolas's strong grip on him.

"Now the other side!" Gimli quickly pulled Aragorn into a sitting position, and after reheating the knife, Deowin again pressed it to the wound. And again Aragorn attempted to break free, his fevered mind not comprehending Legolas's soft voice, whispering to him in Elvish.

At last it was done. Deowin spread an infection-preventing poultice on it, and bandaged it. The three of them lay back, all thankful that the dreadful ordeal was over.

Gimli was first to recover.

"Well done!" he said to Deowin, who was pale and shaking. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes I'm fine…just glad that we're done."

"I'm afraid not." Legolas's voice interrupted. Legolas was examining the wound across Aragorn's face, and the one on his arm. "These still need to be stitched, and both are infected, not to mention his back." Deowin went even paler.

"Well, I'm sure we have much to do, but we should give him a bit of a rest now, don't you think? That can't have been fun for Strider either, and after all he's been through, he needs a break." Gimli said softly. Legolas looked back at Aragorn, and nodded. "Right then! Here, let's have a bit to eat."

Gimli brightly went through the packs and came up with several dried meats and fruits that they had received in Lorien. He passed them around, and each ate their fill. But all too soon, it was time to return their attention to Aragorn. Deowin unwrapped the bandages and examined both cuts, his face grave.

"Yes, we must stitch both of these. But do you have anything that will numb his face? I fear that will be most painful for him." Legolas thought for a moment.

"Yes, we do have some left. We used most of it on his back a while ago, but I think it has worn off now." He said, rifling through Aragorn's healing satchel. At last he came up with a small half-full bottle, which he handed off to Deowin. Deowin quickly uncorked it and spread a generous amount over Aragorn's face. Meanwhile, Gimli carefully threaded the needle.

Once he was sure the drug was working, Deowin took up the needle and began to put in neat, tight stitches. He quickly finished and started on his arm, numbing it also. Aragorn did not react at all, save for a quickness of breath as the needle first entered his skin. His breathing was still uneven and raspy.

Then it was done. Deowin tied off his last stitch with relief, and fastened a new bandage around it.

"There. I think now we have done all we can do for Strider at the moment." He said.

"But his back…" Legolas said quietly.

"The lacerations are not deep enough to be worth stitching, and not serious enough to cauterize. I think all we can do is give him time. You put and infection reducing herb on it though, correct?"

"Yes, we did." Gimli replied.

"Then you have done well. And look! The sun is already setting. We should set a watch—"

"I'll take the first one." Legolas immediately said. Deowin turned to argue, but changed his mind after seeing the look in his eye.

"Very well. I'll go after you, and Gimli, you after me. Is that alright?"

"Yes, yes, that's fine." Said Gimi impatiently. "Now, just give me my pipe for a moment, and I'll be able to sleep." The other two laughed and began to feel more hopeful. And after a while, Gimli's pipe disappeared, and Legolas took up the watch.

**&&&&&&&&&**

About two hours later, Deowin found himself roughly roused from his sleep. He started as his blurry vision made out Legolas's form in the darkness.

"Deowin, you must help! He's not breathing!"


	14. Finally on the mend

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Deowin quickly gained his feet and knelt at Strider's side. Indeed there was no sign of the man's chest rising, or of breath escaping his mouth. The rider hurriedly seized the man's wrist, praying for a pulse. To his somewhat relief, he found one, weak and faint. Immediately he turned Strider onto his back and began to breathe for him, pausing after a moment to see if he could breathe on his own yet. There was still no sign.

Legolas and Gimli hovered worriedly over Deowin's hasty ministrations. Neither of them could stand the idea of losing Aragorn now, after all of this. Deowin looked back up at them, his face pale.

"Legolas, come here and keep breathing for him, until he can do it on his own. Gimli, stock up the fire. I must try to find some stronger herbs that will fight the infection." Wordlessly, the two obeyed. Gimli threw two logs on the fire and blew on it to increase the flame, while Legolas continued to breathe into Aragorn's motionless body. Deowin tore feverently through their packs.

"Come on, mellon nin, don't give up on me now…" Legolas murmured between breaths. He knelt to give another one, and was welcomed by a quick rush of air and twin grey eyes.

"Leg-las, help…m-me….s-so cold." Aragorn stammered, his voice raspy with pain. Swallowing his joy of seeing his friend awake, Legolas quickly found his blanket and draped it around his friend's form, carefully turning him on his side to ease the pain of his back. Aragorn shivered violently, his breath coming in uneven gasps.

"Deowin! He's awake!" Legolas said quickly. The man rushed over with a small bowl of a foul smelling liquid. Legolas looked up questioningly.

"Since the herbs were not strong enough on their own, I have combined several. Don't worry, though it smells foul I think it will work. Now, prop him up."

Legolas carefully lifted his friend, avoiding the various wounds as best he could. Aragorn's eyes were half-lidded, though he was not completely conscious. Legolas accepted the medicine from Deowin and held it to Aragorn's lips.

"Estel, you must drink this so you can be well again. Trust me, drink it." To his surprise, Aragorn swallowed the mixture without protest. Suddenly the man's eyelids fell, and he fell back. Legolas grabbed him and gently laid him down, where his friend again began shivering unconsciously.

"Do you know what is wrong?" Gimli asked quietly from where he was standing.

"The infection is beginning to spread through his blood. If the medicine does not work, he will…get much worse, I'm afraid." Deowin replied

Deowin growled in frustration and again moved toward the healing supplies. Why was his medicine not working? If the medicine didn't immediately kick into the infection spreading in the man's bloodstream, he would receive infected blood everywhere and his body would shut down. But Deowin would not let this happen. He again began pawing through Strider's medicine pouch. Suddenly his fingers brushed against another, smaller pouch inside. Having only recalled touching bottles before this, he pulled it out. It was a leather pouch, unlabeled. Inside there was a fine black powder, and a small card upon which Elvish scriptures flowed.

"Legolas…" The elf's head snapped up. "I just found something I hadn't seen before. Can you read this to me?" Legolas nodded and took the card. For a moment, his keen eyes flew over the parchment, and he began to read.

_I pray that you will not have need of this, my Estel, but should you find yourself in great need this will help you. This pouch contains a healing herb that my father only recently discovered. He has not yet found its name or any special healing properties, save for that it greatly enhances healing. All you need to do is put a pinch of it on the patient's tongue. It should work on its own from there. I give it to you now, for I know that you are undergoing much peril and may be in need of help._

_All of my love,_

_Arwen_

Legolas stopped reading and looked up. Deowin returned his gaze, smiling.

"Legolas, it seems your friend has just received a miracle."

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Less than an hour after they had given Aragorn Arwen's herb, his breathing began to even out and some color returned to his face. Deowin checked him over carefully, and declared him sleeping peacefully. Legolas had given the man a tired smile and again sat down to take up the watch. Gimli looked at him, noting the elf's worn composure.

"Legolas, lad, you should get some sleep," he said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You have been through much today, and yesterday. Let me take the watch."

"No. What if he stops breathing again? I cannot leave his side." Legolas murmured, shrugging off Gimli's hand.

"Gimli is right," Deowin said with a smile. "I'm afraid you won't be much help to Strider half alive. And he is surely on the way to recovery, from the signs he is showing. Go ahead and get some rest, both of you. I will watch. I will wake one of you in a few hours. "

Legolas nodded, too emotionally drained to argue, and went with Gimli to the blankets. The companions lay down, and were instantly asleep.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

At long last, the sun again stretched its bright rays across the plains. The horrific, and yet miraculous, night was over.

Gimli had been the first one awake, and the first thing he did was smack Deowin playfully across the head. The Rider had stayed at watch all night, letting the two tired travelers rest for about seven hours. Deowin smiled up at him and passed him some breakfast.

Legolas had risen soon after, and after expressing his opinion of Deowin staying up all night, joined them for breakfast. He knelt by Aragorn's side, studying his features. The color had returned to his face, and though the bandages remained, he looked much better.

"Did he awake at all last night?" Legolas asked. Deowin shook his head.

"If he has been through all that it seems, it has probably been a while since he has had a truly restful sleep. He should awake later today, around sunset, I think."

"That is good," said Gimli from across the camp. Legolas had forced him to eat farther away, as the elf could not stand the smell of Gimli's pipeweed. "Now that Aragorn is on the mend, we should search for signs of Merry and Pippin. The Riders didn't find them, did they?"

"No, I'm afraid not." Deowin replied. "Your friends may have slipped away before or during the attack. Perhaps you should search the forest."

"Yes, we must begin looking today." Legolas acknowledged. "But I do not want to leave Aragorn…"

"Do not fear, Master Elf. I shall watch him again." Deowin immediately said.

"But you already stayed up all night…" Gimli interjected.

"And don't you have to warn your nearby towns about the threat of the Uruks?" Legolas said.

"That is true. But I came to help you, and I can continue until you are ready to resume your quest. How about you search the border of the forest, and come back at around sundown? Then you can be here when your friend awakens. Perhaps he knows what happened to the Halflings."

"That's a very good idea. Let's go!" said Gimli enthusiastically. He sprang up and slipped his axe into his belt. Legolas laughed.

"Well, it seems that our eager dwarf is ready to go. But call us if anything happens, alright? We will be in hearing distance."

"Yes, yes, now go! Your friends await you!"

With a last glance at the sleeping Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli disappeared over the hill.

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Deowin reclined leisurely against one of the packs. With a loud clatter, an assortment of daggers and knives fell out, including a bloodstained longsword. The rider picked it up and looked at it curiously. This was Thorongil's sword, he was sure. But it was coated in black blood. Surely when he woke up, he would want a clean blade. Deowin found an old swath of material and began to carefully clean the sword, his sharp eyes rooting out the small runes carved into the blade.

But what he didn't see was a small troupe of orcs, slowly climbing the hill toward him and his sleeping charge.

**Well, there you go! Another cliff, I realize, but oh well.**

**I want to apologize for the absurd amount of time it takes for me to update this. I assure you I will not abandon this, no matter how often it seems so. But I'm afraid that the most truthful way I can measure updates is probably…monthly. I'll try as hard as I can to make it earlier, but there it must stay.**

**But on a happier note, MANY MANY THANKS to my wonderful reviewers. They really make my day! And I broke 100! HIP HIP HOORAY, FOR ALL OF YOU! **

**Thanks again! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	15. In the land of the living

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

Floating….

Aragorn was gently falling through some strange place. There was no pain, no feeling of anything. There was simply peace.

But somewhere in the corner of his fuzzy mind he heard something. A bell ringing…no, was it pots and pans….no…

Suddenly he realized that the sounds he was hearing were swords clashing. And with that, Aragorn awoke.

A fiery pain instantly ripped through his back, and right arm. Aragorn's eyes flew open in a panic, seeing only black. It took him another moment to register the fact that he was lying curled up, on his side, underneath a cloak. Using his left hand, Aragorn carefully lifted the cloth.

The bright sunlight instantly assaulted his eyes, forcing him to shade them. But what he saw was not comforting.

There were three orcs closing in on a man. He had a sword, and appeared to be unharmed, and four bodies lay in the long grasses, staining the plains with their dark blood. As Aragorn watched, he parried an orc's blade skillfully away from him and drove his sword into its neck. But just when he turned to the others, one delivered a solid punch to his shoulder as well as a slash to his side, forcing him to drop his weapon. Not to be outdone, the man quickly seized a dagger on his belt and drove it into the orcs chest.

Aragorn slowly tried to think of a way to help the man. The remaining orc was wearing more and thicker-looking armor, and was unhurt, while the man was clutching his side, breathing heavily, though he had recovered his sword. As Aragorn's eyes scanned the small camp, they lit up on several of his daggers. Trying not to attract too much attention to himself, he crawled painfully to the small pile. His ribs greatly protested the movement, and they throbbed with every inch. And to the ranger's dismay, the large orc kicked the man's feet out from under him, driving him painfully to his knees. Aragorn quickly selected a dagger, and tossed it with his left hand.

But Aragorn's torn wrist would not be forgotten, and as a result, the dagger did not find its mark in the orc's flesh, but glanced off of the chest plate. The orc glanced up to its new opponent, a cruel smile gracing his face at sight of the helpless victim. Abandoning the lone man, who was frantically trying to attack the orc from the ground, he began to stalk menacingly toward Aragorn. Aragorn quickly rummaged in the pile and came up with another small knife, and this time his aim was true. The man was staring wide-eyed at the ranger's attack. Aragorn somehow forced himself to his feet and stood unsteadily in front of him.

"H-hello. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Are you…are you-" Aragorn wobbled, suddenly stricken with pain in his leg, and would have fallen if the stranger hadn't suddenly caught him, his hands expertly placed on the ranger's waist where there was no injury.

"Hold on there! You should not even be awake yet, let alone moving around." The man chided gently, helping Aragorn back to the spot where he had awoken.

"I don't understand…" Aragorn said slowly. He realized that talking hurt his face due to the cut on his cheek. "Do I…Do you…"

"Oh, I am sorry. My name is Deowin, son of Illúwin. I am a Rider of Rohan, serving under Theoden, king of the Mark. It was I who found you at the orc encampment, and I have been tending you these past few days, along with your friends Legolas and Gimli." Deowin said quickly. "They went to look for your other friends, but before the orcs attacked I was calling for them. They should come back soon."

Aragorn smiled gently. "Then it seems…that I owe you my life. Thank you…for everything. If there is any way I can repay you-

"Nay!" Deowin interrupted, laughing. "All you should do now is rest, and concentrate on getting better. Anyway, it seems that I have to change the bandages on your back again, thanks to you saving my life. So you see, we are equal. Now hold still." Deowin relocated himself behind Aragorn, and gently removed the bloodstained bandages. Aragorn let out a small gasp when the wounds were exposed to the air, but thankfully the bandages had not stuck. He barely repressed a moan as Deowin carefully applied a salve that he had brought, and quickly rebandaged him.

"There you go. Are you feeling hungry, or thirsty? I don't think you've eaten in a while, have you?"

"No, I have not. But wait…You should tend to your side first. I saw when the orc got you, and it did not look small." Aragorn said, concerned. "Here, let me see it."

Deowin grudgingly removed his hand from where it had been clamping down on his side, revealing a small, ugly looking gash. Aragorn studied it carefully.

"I don't think it's poisoned, but you should get it stitched. I fear that my hands are too unsteady now, though. Perhaps Legolas or Gimli-

"Aragorn?"

The said ranger turned slowly at the sound of his name. Legolas and Gimli were coming down the hill. Well, now Legolas was sprinting at full force. After a moment, he was at Aragorn's side.

Legolas leaned forward and embraced his friend firmly, taking care to avoid pressing on his friend's many wounds.

"Estel," he murmured into Aragorn's shoulder, his eyes wet. "I feared I would never see you alive again." Aragorn smiled painfully.

"It would take more than a few orcs to do me in, mellon nin." He said back, returning the embrace. Gimli stood beside him, smiling joyfully.

"Well! Of course the moment we leave, you decide to wake up, you stubborn rascal. We trek after you for three days, and can't spare us the courtesy of waking in our presence!" Gimli reprimanded cheerfully, also embracing the ranger.

"I am truly sorry Gimli. But I would definitely not mind getting more rest now, and perhaps a little food…Wait! The Halflings! Did you find them?"

"Nay, Aragorn. We went back to the encampment and searched for their tracks, but we could make out nothing of the tracks. We can return tomorrow, if you are feeling better-

"No! I know where the Halflings left the orcs. If we go now, I can show you and we can follow them! I told them to wait by the river, but they will have moved by now…" Aragorn said rapidly, trying to get up.

"Aragorn, wait," Legolas gently eased the ranger back down. "You are in no condition for travel, or even moving. Just last night you were not breathing, and this is the first time in two days you have awoken. As you just said yourself, you need rest. But tell us…how did you know where Merry and Pippin left? Why did you not go with them?"

Aragorn sighed softly. "There was an orc, one of the leaders, who was taking advantage of the confusion over the Riders' attack to attempt to leave with Merry and Pippin. I was able to hinder him, and he is now dead. Pippin had loosened his bonds, and was able to release Merry, but I was tied too tightly for them to free me without a knife. I did not wish for them to be seen while wasting time on me, so I urged them to leave without me. But I do not know where they are now, except that they are probably in the forest."

Deowin had been sitting quietly throughout Aragorn's tale, and he realized that there was more to this man's capture and rescue than he could have known. He carefully prepared a small draught of tea and handing to it to Aragorn, said, "Perhaps you should tell us your story from the beginning."

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**Well, there's another chapter down! So Aragorn is finally alive and well(ish) and all ready to go about saving Merry and Pippin! Well, almost. **

**But I want to apologize, yet again, about the tardiness of this chapter. I just keep putting it off and putting it off, until when I finally mean to do it, I get a fresh boatload of homework. I really am sorry, and hope this chapter can somewhat compensate.**

**Many many thanks to my wonderful reviewers- responses are out! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


	16. Recounting

And so Aragorn launched into his tale. How he was captured, found Merry and Pippin, and details of their long trek across Rohan. Gimli beamed proudly as Aragorn described Pippin dropping his brooch. But Aragorn desperately wished he could have evaded the mention of Pippin's punishment. He only briefly mentioned it, but still he noticed Legolas's face growing steadily paler, and his lip curling in anger. The elf's fair hands were clenched, and Aragorn had no doubt that the elf wished he had been there at the time of the ambush, if only to wring Ugluk's neck.

For this reason, Aragorn skipped over telling them of his various mistreatments. Legolas livid with anger would not help them find the Halfling, and so he instead put great detail on how the orcs needed them, and barely harmed them.

At last the grueling tale was over. He concluded with the orcs approaching him by the trees, and blacking out.

Legolas immediately focused on Deowin, prying out of him how the orcs were dealt with, and how many. After all tales were finished, Aragorn felt himself growing drowsy, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the pulsing pain going through his entire body.

"Aragorn…Aragorn! Can you hear me?" A voice suddenly startled him out of his blurred state. He blinked and realized he had collapsed sideways, onto Deowin, who looked rather embarrassed beneath his concern.

"Yes…I just…" he raised a hand to his head. Deowin helped him lean gently on one of the less bulky packs.

"You should probably get some rest now." Legolas said gently, digging through the pouch that contained the healing herbs. "Here, you should have some more of this." He found Arwen's herb and pulled it out.

Aragorn's grey eyes instantly recognized the bag.

"You…you gave me that?" he asked quietly. Gimli was alarmed.

"Yes, lad. Should we not have?"

Aragorn sighed. "You should not have wasted it on me. The herb should only be used in utter need."

"Aragorn, what are you talking about! Of course we needed it! You were not breathing and scarcely lived!" cried Legolas, frustrated with his friend's thoughts.

"He's right," Deowin interjected calmly. "Without this, you would have surely died. And if you do not take it again, you will most likely not be well enough to move for several days."

Aragorn hesitated briefly, but soon reached for the powder, and taking as small a pinch as he dared. He placed it in his mouth, and started.

"What? What is it?" Legolas asked instantly. To his surprise, Aragorn swallowed, and began to chuckle weakly.

"I do not believe it, mellon-nin, but it actually tastes…delightful!"

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The herb worked quickly. In only a few minutes, Aragorn had sunk in to a deep sleep. Deowin carefully checked his various injuries, and pronounced them to be healing well, with no signs of infection. As he tied off the last bandage, a sliver of pain flared up in his side. He gasped, startled. Deowin had completely forgotten that he had gotten injured. But compared to the extremity of the ones he had just seen, it seemed far more trivial.

"Deowin, what is wrong? Are you hurt?" Gimli questioned, moving away from where he was tending the fire.

"Well, erm, it's just an old wound, just opened up a bit, I'm fine." Deowin stammered, moving away from the dwarf's glinting eyes.

"Oho, don't try that on us! Something happened while we were gone, correct? Tell us!" Legolas came and seated himself next to Gimli. They both lookedquestioningly at Deowin.

"Very well," Deowin began reluctantly. "A little while after you left, I was cleaning some of the weapons I had found in a pack, and…a small group of orcs came upon us."

Legolas and Gimli were indignant.

"What! There was an attack? Why did you not say anything?" Gimli cried. Legolas remained silent. His sharp eyes turned for the first time onto the opposite plains that he now noticed groaned beneath several stinking carcasses of orcs.

"Well, actually that was the reason I called for you. Aragorn was still out, and I did not know what to do. So I curled him up as small as possible, and tucked a blanked on top of him. I knew I could handle such a small number of orcs, but I didn't want to risk him being spotted and hurt, as he was defenseless. But he proved me quite wrong!"

Legolas groaned.

"Say not that he woke and joined the battle! Surely even he knew that he was too weak to fight! Was he injured?"

"No, no, he has no new injuries. He woke when the majority of the orcs were dead. Only the leader, who was both heavily armed and covered, was giving me trouble. I began to falter, and I received only a small wound. Because just as the orc attacked me, your valiant friend thew a dagger from where he lay. Alas, it was a miss, but it got the orc's attention and he began to stalk toward Aragorn, but he managed to throw another dagger and this time, killed it. He actually got up and came over to me to see if I was injured!"

Legolas smiled, fondly looking over to his sleeping friend.

"He has always put the safety of others before himself, if he thinks of himself at all! Estel has been my greatest friend for many, many years, and yet that has never changed."

"He is a remarkable man," Deowin said softly. "Never have I encountered one so selfless and brave."

Gimil watched this exchange fondly, but his insides turned as the thought of the Halflings. They were alone, lost in the middle of a land they knew nothing about, and in what condition? Grateful as he was that they had managed to finally save Aragorn, he knew they had much more to do.

These thoughts flashed briefly through his mind, and left as soon as they came. Gimli sat back by the fire, turning his thoughts back to the present. Right now their task was to help Aragorn recover, and then once he was able to travel, to find the hobbits. With that he added another branch to the fire, and rejoined his companions.

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**Well, there's another chapter. I thought Gimli should get a chance to muse a little bit, so tell me what you think! And regarding updates….ugh. I'm again terribly sorry about the inconsistent rate at which I update. And of course, it didn't help that I couldn't log in for a while…But thanks for all of my fabulous reviewers for bearing with me, and especially **iheartequeens **for waking me up and encouraging me! **

**QueenofFlarmphgal**


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